


Wish I Knew You Before

by GrumblingGeek



Category: EXO (Band), K-pop, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Alcohol, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Post-Apocalypse, Alternate Universe - Robots & Androids, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Baby Jeon Jungkook, Banter, Blood Magic, Character Death, Dark Magic, Death, Developing Friendships, Drunk Jeon Jungkook, Drunk Jung Hoseok | J-Hope, Drunk Kim Namjoon | RM, Drunk Kim Seokjin | Jin, Drunk Kim Taehyung | V, Drunk Min Yoongi | Suga, Drunk Park Jimin (BTS), Drunken Flirting, Drunken Kissing, Drunkenness, Dry Humping, End of the World, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Idiots in Love, Kim Taehyung | V is a Little Shit, Korean Characters, Love, M/M, Male-Female Friendship, Monsters, Original Character(s), Post-Apocalypse, Power Exchange, Protective Kim Namjoon | RM, Robot/Human Relationships, Robots, Rough Sex, Sloppy Makeouts, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Survival, Survival Horror, Top Zhang Yi Xing | Lay, Worldbuilding, a fuck time of banter, jimin is a lil bitch, jin is a mega flirt, kim seokjin is a flirt, namjoon is bossy, taehyung is a spicy witch
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-31
Updated: 2020-03-03
Packaged: 2020-10-04 08:54:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 67,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20468366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrumblingGeek/pseuds/GrumblingGeek
Summary: The United States has been disbanded after World War 3, survivors scatter the decimated nation searching for some semblance of a life. When four best friends are lucky enough to be reunited, they think that surviving is all they'll ever have until they meet trapped boy band, BTS, and see that there may be more to life after the war.





	1. Chapter 1

Alyssa wasn’t sure if she missed how the world used to be. She was still debating. On one hand, she missed visiting used bookstores and curling up with a cup of coffee on a rainy day. On the other hand, she  _ didn’t  _ miss daily interactions with people or commutes that took her two hours to get anywhere. That was definitely a pro to the apocalypse: no traffic.

The world ended on a Tuesday. Or at least, that’s when Alyssa’s world had ended. She had been at her parent’s house in North Carolina, gathering up some belongings to ship to her new address when the bombs dropped on Uptown Charlotte. She could feel the reverberations from their secluded country house outside of Waxhaw, almost thirty miles away. After that, society crumbled. 

World War 3 started not with a bang, but a whimper. First, it was the whispers of discontent from other countries. They weren’t happy with the political leaders in the United States or the homeland crisis we couldn’t seem to handle ourselves. They believed that we had gotten too powerful for our own good. Out of control. Needed to be brought back down to earth. No one expected that we would be ally-less and that the countries would unite and turn against us. That’s the thing about the end of the world, it’s never what you expect. Whispers turned into arguments that molded into organized attacks in multiple places around the country. 

Then, the European Union decimated the United States. All major cities were destroyed and our government was dismantled. Biologically altered creatures called Sasaengs were set loose in civilian sanctuaries to bring our numbers down, to quell rebellion. Or at least, that’s what Alyssa heard. She had never seen a Sasaeng and thought they could possibly be an old wives tale to cover plague or whatever other reason for whole sanctuaries to be eliminated.

The war had long since ended and no semblance of government structure had ever been set back up. The United States was little more than a few scattered refugees and destroyed real estate, survivors wandering over the land searching for loved ones. Electricity had slowly fizzled out when no one manned the stations any more and slowly but surely cars ran out of gas, stations never refilling. Some people had backup generators but most did not. Natural selection took its toll as mankind lost the comfort it had become so accustomed to. And of course, cell phones were out of the question.

Alyssa had no clue what had happened to her friends or family. Before the war had started her parents had been on vacation for the week she had stopped by to gather her things and her friends had been in a multitude of cities scattered around the South Eastern United States. She had waited in the Waxhaw area for the duration of the war and the past year of ‘peace’ hoping that at least her family would reappear. She’d had no such luck.

She had occupied an old ranch near her house shortly after the war started, calling it home. She had no clue where the original family had gone but her years of growing up on a farm and extensive outdoor survival training had finally paid off. After ransacking the neighbors estates and gathering the farm animals, she had a nice system going. Or at least, she had. Her food resources were getting low, her crops beginning to die, and with winter coming, she knew her time was up. She couldn’t keep waiting forever. 

Alyssa grabbed an old travel stop map of the Eastern United States and spread it out on the old oak table in her dining room. She had heard whispers from the tree people (a peaceful people who had taken to a nomadic life in the woods) that a large group of North Carolinians had been evacuated to Raleigh when the war had broken out. It had been too dangerous to go there during the war and Alyssa had tossed around the idea of going once it had ended but had decided against it since her safehouse was still secure. Maybe her family had ended up there? Possibly Monica, one of her closest friends from college? She lived near there. And now that Alyssa’s resources were dying out. . . . 

She ran her hand over her face before looking over the map again. Raleigh wasn’t terribly far. She had two strong work horses on the ranch. Three, if she could get fuckin’ Kesha off her ass. With the remaining food and the old cart in the barn. . . . maybe. Just maybe, they could make it. 

Alyssa hurried to pack a satchel of the few belongings she considered vital and began prepping for the trip. She released all the other animals and got the three horses: George Washington, Rosa Parks, and Kesha ready. They left at dawn.

* * *

After college, Monica had struggled to find her true passions. Being so talented at everything, she found it impossible to narrow down what she wanted to do so she decided to stay in Durham for a few years, hoping to stumble across a career that she enjoyed. She dabbled in pottery, gardening, even the medical field that her parents had raised her in. Nothing stuck.

When the war hit, her family was on their biannual vacation to Ohio without her, and they never returned. Weeks passed before she decided to evacuate to the local fallout shelter in downtown Raleigh where the few remaining survivors took shelter from the ongoing attacks. She was more alone than ever, wasting the days away until the inevitability of war took her as well. She welcomed the end. 

The shelter was grey and dim, with no power or natural lighting. Just the feeble, flickering glow of the gas lanterns the other refugees had put up. She shared a cell with Newt, one of her cats from her home, and the only one she was able to save from destruction. 

After the war ended, people began to filter out in hope of piecing together some semblance of a life, but Monica had nowhere to go and no hope of ever finding her friends or family. Her depression kicked in and soon she found it hard to do anything at all. 

The day that everything changed started out like every other day at the base. She woke up late, because what was the point of getting up early when you had nowhere to be, washed her face and fed Newt. He had gotten into the habit of yowling incessantly whenever she slept passed 11am and it was really grinding on her nerves. She wondered if there was any kind of muzzle type device she could make out of the wick from the chairs. . . 

Around 6pm, Monica dragged herself to the watchtower to take her daily guard shift. There were so few people at the camp now that everyone who remained had to take daily shifts. Monica wondered if she would ever get the energy to leave the base.

Her shift started out normal, she didn’t expect to see much due to the war being over. About an hour in, three figures appeared on the horizon. She whipped out her binoculars to check and was surprised to see it was her college roommate, Alyssa, atop a grey horse with 2 others following, the smallest pulling a rickety old cart. She was unhealthily thin and her skin was as tan as a sweet potato. Her hair was bleached from the sun and her bangs had grown out and formed a middle part. Alyssa had never looked worse. 

Monica jumped to her feet, gripping the railing in front of her and screeched an inhuman “ _ ALYSSAA” _ as they had back in the day. A confirmation shriek was returned from the distant shape and Monica knew it was her. 

Monica hadn’t moved this fast in months. She slid down the ladder and bolted out the gate of the base to where Alyssa galloped over, leaping off the horse and running to Monica. The girls were shouting some incoherant jargon as they ran up to each other but didn’t touch. Monica had changed, but not that much. She still hated platonic physical contact. 

Alyssa looked her up and down, taking in the mole-like appearance of Monica. She had been so deprived of sunlight and proper nutrition (you can only get so far on canned non perishables and Easy Mac) that her eyes were sunken, her hair stringy and reaching almost mid back and her skin pale, like spoiled milk. 

“Wow.” Alyssa stated. “You look awful.”

Monica gave her the ole’ up and down. “Look who’s talking. You look like a motorcyclist from Arizona.” 

Alyssa looked down at her handmade clothes and leather sea turtle skin. “Touche.”

Monica pointed behind her. “Horses?”

“Aye. They’re carrying all my shit.”

“You never were a light packer.”

Alyssa laughed as she gathered the leads of all three horses following Monica into the mostly deserted base. 

“So. . . this is the fall out shelter?” Alyssa said when Monica showed her to an empty stable to unload the horses. The horses that used live here were long gone with the first refugees to leave.

“Yeah, what remains of it. After the war most of the refugees scattered.”

“Can’t blame them. This place reeks of desperation and poverty.”

Monica looked around at the crumbling structures and bleak surroundings. “Yeah, but it’s home.” She offered Alyssa a weak smile who raised an eyebrow. 

“Monica, you can’t be serious. You gotta get out of here.”

“I know. I just. . . hoped they’d come back y’know?” 

Alyssa’s features softened. “Your parents?”

“Yeah . . . . or you guys. Which-” Monica motioned to the leather beast. “You did.”

Alyssa chuckled. “Yeah I did. And it’s time to get  _ you  _ out. But first, you haven’t perchance . . . you didn’t happen to see. . . . my family?”

Monica shook her head. “No, I knew everyone in this shelter and your family wasn’t here. Mostly just suckers from my highschool who got pregnant too young.”

“Ah. Just like life pre-war then.”

Horses unpacked, Monica led Alyssa to her hovel. Newt immediately crawled into Alyssa’s lap desperate for a new human’s affection.

“Traitor.” Monica muttered opening a can of baked beans and handing them to Alyssa. 

The girls chatted about their lives the past few years. The isolation, the skills they had picked up that they never thought they needed, and what they thought they should do next. 

“We can’t stay here, Monica. This place is dying. It’s only a matter of time before your resources are completely out.” Alyssa said, scraping the can of beans with her pocket knife, searching for the last spoonful. 

“I know, but I can’t think of anywhere to go. There is no where _ to go.  _ The tree people speak of nothing but decimation for as far as the eye can see.”

Alyssa pondered this for a minute. She was never one to stay in a place for too long, even pre-war. 

“What do you think happened to Madi and Jacq?”

“Hmm?” Monica thought for a minute. “Well, Madi probably fucking prospered and is the head of a cult or something. Jacq? Jacq’s probably dead.”

Alyssa almost spat beans clear across the hovel. She wiped the excess from her mouth.

“I mean, probably. But we could look for them? Last I heard, Jacq was in DC and Madi had started her career in Atlanta.” 

“God, both of those are fucking far.”

“We have the horses.”

“Yeah, horses that you named after fuckin’ influential figures.”

“Legends. They’re named after legends.” 

“Kesha is a legend?”

“A musical one.”

Monica snorted. “Okay. Say we do go looking for them. Which one? They’re literally in opposite directions.”

“You're like asking me to pick a favorite child.”

“No, I’m trying to be practical. Which one do we try to find first?”

Alyssa sucked the bean sauce off the knife before replying. “Well, that’s easy. Jacq- because she’s the least capable of taking care of herself in this scenario. Madi can probably survive for another decade. Bitch is like a cockroach.”

Monica nodded. The four of them had been inseparable at one point and if they had survived, chances are the others had too. “Fine. But we can’t go out looking like something from an end of the world cult.” She grabbed her hair cutting scissors and stood behind Alyssa. “Okay, how short?”

Monica used one of her hidden talents to give each of them haircuts. Next priority was getting Alyssa some new clothes from surplus and a shit ton of 50+ SPF sunscreen. She was already melanoma’s primary target. They took the night to rest and loaded up the horses early the next morning. 

Monica chose to ride Rosa Parks, the bay shire mare, because she felt like she was in a Budweiser commercial and she missed alcohol that wasn’t the moonshine the creepy old guy two hovels down made. Alyssa swung herself onto George Washington and Kesha followed close behind dragging the old cart with Newt perched inside it.

And so, their journey north on the deserted highway 85 began.

Little did they know, Madi was closer than they thought.

* * *

_ World War III was a blessing, _ Madi thought to herself, as she slowly made her way out of the abandoned Cookout she had called home for the past few days. It had taken some time to thoroughly spook the family who had holed up inside it prior to her arrival enough to leave; but a few dead birds here, a couple nicely placed syringes there, and constant whispering into the air vent that led directly into the space the kids slept was all it took for Madi to be the sole proprietor of her own place. Thank God the South was so superstitious, and Madi, having been raised up in private religious schools for the majority of her childhood, knew just what demonic buttons to push.

Soon, however, she would have to leave. She was running out of food options – nearly all the frozen tenders and French fry supply levels had been depleted. You wouldn’t believe the preservatives that were in that shit. They didn’t even have to stay cold. She had already accidentally started a fire once trying to microwave (Cookouts have a generator???) a metal tray and a grease fire was inevitable as she had been pouring it down the drain for the past week, because why the fuck not. It’s not like her old roommates were there to shriek at her utterly non-existent cooking ability.

Her roommates…. _That’s an idea_, Madi thought, as she began to pack up her things for the trek toward her old college. Alyssa had been in Charlotte and Monica in Durham the last time they had snap-chatted. Of course, who knows when that was…Madi hadn’t noticed the power outage until at least a week after it happened – she was pretty inept at technology anyway so good riddance. Cooking, no – Technology, no, instead what Madi was good at was being chaotic – which is why it had only taken her 20 minutes to pack up everything she owned and make the decision to head towards North Carolina. Atlanta was getting old anyway. Post-Apocalyptic Atlanta? _The Walking Dead_ had been there, done that. Madi was tired of remixes.

It was getting dark, and if she wanted to make it there by nightfall tomorrow she had to leave now. When the few remaining societal rules disappeared – it was much harder to hotwire someone’s car and syphon their gas when they could see you a mile off in the daytime. That was to say, that she could find a working vehicle. Those were few and far between nowadays. 

Leaving out the back door, dropping a lit match down the grease filled drain, she slowly counted the minutes as she walked away down the road. It took a total of 9 minutes before the world’s largest Molotov cocktail completely imploded, Cookout sign burning in the distance.  _ Leave no trace, no evidence of your existence. _ That was the motto.

Sometime later, Madi had successfully played dead in the middle of the highway, securing a surprisingly nice black car with a Michael Jordan sticker on it from some “good samaritan” named Johnney Rocket, judging from the license in his wallet she had also nabbed. She wasn’t sure how the fuck he still had a running car and why he was gullible enough to stop and help her in this Hell on earth but whatever. Either way, she was set to head North towards North Carolina and hopefully find her roommates in the process. Lucky for her, this Johnney Rocket schmuck had a BTS CD already loaded into the disc player – nothing but Anpanman for the next 300 miles.

* * *

_ THREE YEARS PRIOR _

_ WASHINGTON, DC _

When the first bomb landed, Jacq was on the subway.

She’d been on her way to meet her dad downtown for lunch, just a typical Tuesday afternoon, for the summer. Her earbuds were in, but as the train passed through a weak cell signal spot, she still heard the chime of thirty emergency alerts going off at once. Jacq popped out the earbud, the Jonas Brothers still crooning away in the other one, and frowned as she pulled out her phone.

**E V E R Y T H I N G G O I N G T O S H I T**

**R U N**

And that’s about when the subway caved in.

By the time Jacq had found her way out of the subway tunnel (miraculously only minorly worse for wear; the cave in had destroyed the cars ahead of her’s, only narrowly missing her), the world was going to shit. She hadn’t gotten very far - she recognized that she had made it to the Pentagon subway stop, not fully into the city yet. She climbed up to the Air Force Memorial, with a view over the entirety of the nation’s capital, and watched as it all went down.

When the CDC blew up, she knew it was time to move. There was no way in high hell she was going to stick around for  _ that  _ fallout. But how to get home?

_ Or _ , Jacq thought uncertainly,  _ should I even go home? _

It was no big secret that the best thing to do in the apocalypse scenario was to get as far away as possible from the major city centers, but what about her family? She eyed the mess that the capital had turned into critically. You would think that there would be no way her father could survive that, but Jacq knew the truth: there was no better environment for him to  _ thrive  _ in. As a highly trained marine, he’d be okay.

So she continued in the direction she was trudging across the Pentagon parking lot and back towards Virginia. The highway next to it was log jammed, and mostly on  _ fire _ , but luckily none of that had spread down to the Pentagon - their security was too airtight, even during the end of days (well, that’s what she assumed it was, at the time). She’d have to stick to the backroads, the ones nobody but the locals knew about - not I-95, not 295, not 395,  _ definitely _ not 495. No, she was talking about  _ 595 _ .

_ It’s the only way _ , she told herself, shuddering at the very thought. 595 was unpredictable, like Monica after a Blood Moon, or Madi in general. Jacq knew it was an old wives tale, but there was a part of her that genuinely believed what people said about the highway having been constructed by a coven of witches during Eisenhower’s presidency. Still, if she played her cards right, she knew that 595 could take her anywhere she wanted to go.

...no, literally, anywhere. 595 was blood magic, and as long as she made the appropriate blood tribute, it would take her anywhere. Lucky for her, Jacq was on her period (first time saying  _ that _ ).

* * *

Alyssa wasn’t sure how long Monica and her had been on the road. It may have only been days but it felt like years. 

Maybe that was because they had to stop every thirty minutes to let Monica dismount Rosa Parks and walk around, still not adjusted to that horseback life. She was taking it like a champ but literally could not walk with her legs together. She looked like an idiot.

“Alyssa, I need a break,” Monica said and Alyssa turned to look at her, sighing.  _ At this rate, we’re gonna die of old age before we reach the capital.  _ She had to admit that Monica was looking better now that they had been outside for a bit. The color was starting to return to her skin and her chopped off her hair looked less like one giant rat tail. 

Monica’s cat, Newt, who was still patiently perched behind Kesha, meowed loudly as the two girls dismounted and Alyssa tossed Monica a water bottle and some dried squirrel from her pack. 

“It’s getting late anyway, we may as well set up camp here for the night,” Alyssa said plopping down next to where Monica had collapsed on the ground munching on squirrel jerky.

“You never told me horseback riding was so  _ painful, _ ” Monica muttered.

“It honestly never came up. You get used to it,” Alyssa watched the sun as it began to set on the horizon, turning the sky brilliant colors of pink and orange. The war had done some nasty stuff to the environment and no birds sang. The few animals that lived through it were mostly hunted by survivors now for food. The squirrel they had killed a few days prior would have to last them at least until they could find another. 

The girls sat in companionably silence together for a few minutes until a horrible noise caused them to leap to their feet.

“What the  _ fuck?” _ Monica shouted as a shitty black Nissan sputtered into view. Smoke was shooting out the hood as it swerved all over the road, Anpanman blasting faintly from the speakers. “Is that a  _ car?” _

The two girls stared in shock as the car let out the last few sputters of life and rolled to a stop about a hundred feet from where they stood. A figure with a mass of blonde hair got out and grabbed a backpack from the back seat, slamming the door before heading towards them. The Nissan exploded into a ball of fire. 

“Should we be concerned?” Monica asked. “I feel like we should be concerned.”

“Wait a minute. . . “ Alyssa squinted at the figure. “Is it just me or does that look a lot like Madi?”

Sure enough, the approaching figure looked a startling lot like their old roommate, Madison Myers. Her blonde hair reached well past her ass and she wore an old t-shirt that read “Baby Got  _ Your  _ Back”. She sauntered up to them, the other two girls staring at her in shock, before throwing her pack on the ground by the horses and turning to address them.

“Do you two have any food or am I going to have to fry the cat?”

The girls broke out in smiles before Alyssa ran up to hug Madi, who returned the hug graciously. 

“I haven’t felt the touch of another human in three years,” Alyssa whispered.

“Don’t make it weird,” Madi stated as they broke off. Monica gave Madi a cordial nod before they sat down and began to catch up about where they had been for the duration of the war. 

“So, you guys are heading to DC? As in the center of all of our problems- because you think  _ Jacq _ may have survived?” 

Alyssa and Monica looked at each other and shrugged.

“I mean, it’s not like we have any other plans. Our families are potentially dead. We made that pact in college to live out the apocalypse together. May as well give it a shot. Also, how the  _ fuck  _ did you find a working car?” Alyssa asked. 

“Don’t ask questions. And yeah I guess, but out of all of us, you think  _ Jacq  _ made it out?” Madi said doubtfully. 

“With the help of her Dad, probably.” Alyssa replied.

“Yeah, I’m sure he got her to a bunker. Who knows, our families may be there too. It’s worth a shot. We owe it to her,” Monica said.

Madi leaned back and took a swig of water. “You guys are way more optimistic than me but what the fuck? My plans got cancelled anyway.” She looked forlornly at the destroyed Nissan, the Michael Jordan license plate charred on the front, hanging by one rusty nail.

“What exactly  _ were _ your plans?” Monica asked. Madi pulled out a crumpled map of the South East and showed it to them. Hundreds of little red dots littered the page.

“Are you guys aware of exactly how many Cookouts there are in the South East?” 

* * *

It took the girls five days to make it to Washington, DC. The journey would have been shorter, but Monica’s back problems from college were exaggerated being on horseback for so long, that they had to stop and rest more often than not. That and every time Madi saw a Cookout the team had to stop so she could raid the pantry for what she called ‘indestructible chicken nuggets’.

The city was entirely in shambles. Since it was the capital, it was the first place to be taken out. The bombs that were used weren’t nuclear (that the girls knew of), but the multitude of weapons used was something that the government could never have prepared itself for. The city was apocalyptic. Three years had passed since the attack and all major buildings and political figures were destroyed. There was nothing left of the American democracy, and at that moment, the girls realized that Jacq could not have made it through the bombing. The damage was too severe. 

The ex-roommates sat still on their horses and took a moment of silence as they mourned the inevitable death of their friend Jacqueline “Shithead” Jones. 

“There’s no way she could have made it, is there?” Monica whispered, toying with Rosa Park’s reins. 

The other two girls exchanged glances and shook their heads. In some ways, ignorance really is bliss. It was easier to believe Jacq  _ could  _ have survived when they hadn’t seen the extent of the damage. 

Suddenly, Rosa Parks reared back dislodging Monica who slid off the shire and landed on her ass on the ground. “What the fuc-”

Rosa Parks took off, however, she didn’t seem like she got spooked, but rather seemed like she had somewhere to be, like Madi seeing the neon lights of a Cook Out at midnight. 

Alyssa, being the horse whisperer that she was, reacted quickly.

“Monica, get on Kesha with Madi and follow me!” She shouted bolting after Rosa Parks. 

Madi hauled Monica onto the horse behind her and took off into the heart of the city. This was the first interesting thing to happen in weeks and adrenaline was pumping through their veins. They chased the horse through the remains of the city until, Monica realized where Rosa Parks was taking them.

“The Washington monument?” She whispered under her breath. 

“What are you saying back there?!” Madi yelled, Kesha still going full speed and dragging the rickety old cart with a yowling Newt. 

“She’s taking us to the Washington monument!” Monica shouted, trying to be heard over the racket. _ Do horses have some inherent Google Maps built into their brains _ , she wondered. 

Sure enough, Rosa Parks slowed her gallop to a mere trot as she approached the seemingly untouched monument. It stood tall and proud like a pinky finger on a Tuesday, but had an eerie energy to it, being the only standing building of significance in the city.

“How did  _ this _ ,” Alyssa gestured to the unstable, pencil of a building, “Survive the attacks?”

“Beats me,” Madi said, sliding off Kesha. “This would be the first thing I would blow up if I was attacking the city. It’s an architectural nightmare.” 

The other two dismounted from their horses and allowed them to graze on what was left of the lawn. Alyssa was the first to approach the building, cautiously. She was walking a bit more assertively when she got about fifty yards out from the monument and seemed to hit a wall. Madi and Monica heard a thunk as her thick head collided with the empty air and she collapsed to the ground. 

“ _ FUCK _ !” Alyssa yelled in unexpected pain as she rubbed her forehead where she had been hit. “What the literal  _ fuck _ was that?!”

The others rushed over to help her up. Monica reached out tentatively and was surprised to find a sort of force field keeping them from entering the monument. 

“A freakin’ forcefield!” Monica shouted in pure glee as she laid her entire body against the sci-fi dream turned reality rolling around excitedly. 

Madi sighed at her enjoyment and eyed the field skeptically. “What kind of wizardry is this?” 

As if on cue, a hobbit like figure emerged from a small door at the bottom of the building, the one they used to bring people to the top of the pencil. It was wearing a dark cape and witch like hat, and approached them wielding some sort of stick.

“Uh, hell no.” Madi said backing up. “I am not about to deal with this Gandalf shit. I say we run for it.”

“I mean, Rosa Parks led us here.” Monica replied, still rubbing the forcefield. She liked the kind of static energy it emitted when it touched her fingers. 

“Rosa Parks is a dumb bitch.” Madi responded, still backing towards where Kesha grazed, peacefully.

The figure came ever closer and Alyssa squinted. Was it just her or did the figure look kind of like. . . ?

“Jacq, is that you?! Speak now, or I’m going to shoot you!” Alyssa shouted across the field.

Monica looked at her. “With what weapon?”

“They don’t know that.”

A gutteral shriek came from the shadowy figure and they girls knew. 

Jacq had survived. 

  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The girls get to meet the Apocalyptic boy band, BTS

“You gotta pay the troll toll if you want to get in this hole,” Jacq cackled as she hobbled out on tip toes, staff in hand. It had been a while since they had all seen each other, and Jacq’s usual pixie cut had grown out into a thick curtain of black curls cascading over her shoulders and covering her eyes.

Jacq had felt her spidey sense tingling in the underground bunker her dad had always mentioned in passing at Thanksgiving. Little did people know, it was real and had served as Jacq’s safe haven for the majority of the war and the better part of the aftermath. Her spidey sense typically only tingled in signs of danger or when her roommates were in close quarters... she was not expecting the latter to be the case when she came to the surface. She was ready to battle some fuckin’ sasaeng bitches. She  _ definitely _ hadn’t expected all three of her closest friends to be standing there looking like DnD characters come to life, complete with horses and everything.

“I don’t have to pay you shit, bitch,” Alyssa yelled in reflex. “And I for sure don’t want to be anywhere near your hole.” 

The four girls burst into laughter, glad the apocalypse didn’t deal any damage on their ability to rag on each other.

“Are you going to lower this forcefield so we can approach you or are we gonna have to camp out here like heathens to win your favor?” Madi asked approaching the field of energy for the first time and putting out a hand, tentatively. 

Jacq did some kind of wizardry shit that the girls didn’t understand and the field dissipated. Monica looked crestfallen.

“Ah, man.” Monica whined. 

Madi shot her a look of disgust. “Can you relax your magic kink for five minutes?” 

The four friends approached each other all together for the first time since the war had begun. They swapped stories of their survival and of course began insulting the way they all looked. 

“Jesus Monica, I knew you were a lizard person before, but couldn’t you have at least prevented your eczema from becoming scales?’ Madi wheezed.

“BITCH, FUCK YOUR CHICKEN STRIPS” Monica yelled.

“I mean, Alyssa looks like a truck driver’s wife who lives in rural Florida.” Jacq snorted and Alyssa shot her a look.

“You should have seen her  _ before  _ we cut her hair. The middle part was  _ real.  _ At least you get to see her with  _ bangs.”  _ Monica responded.

“Excuse me for not worrying about my appearance in the fuckin’  _ apocalypse.  _ Are we not gonna talk about Jacq’s long ass ringlets right now?” Alyssa shouted back. 

“Yeah, that’s gotta go.” Monica agreed and Jacq threw up her hands.

“Fine, whatever. You can cut my hair tonight. Please, come into my bunker,” Jacq said as she tapped her staff on the ground twice. Suddenly a small square piece in the Reflecting Pool just before the Monument dislodged and raised up, revealing a small staircase, water flowing out to the sides. 

“You literally just came out of that door there,” Alyssa said pointing to the small door Jacq had come out from.

“Yeah, but this one’s way cooler. I use it on special occasions.”

“You’re a freak,” Monica said.

“A freak with a double vanity sink and her own sweet pad,” Jacq quipped.

The group entered the dramatic main entrance to Jacq’s self announced ‘sweet pad’ to find a bunker larger than anything they had ever seen. They had appeared in a hodge podged foyer that led into a massive kitchen and an even bigger living room space.

“God, how big is this place?” Alyssa asked, running her hands along the worn furniture. The place, though much bigger than expected, looked exactly how they thought it would. Paint chip Pokémon and Marvel characters decorated the walls, a shrine dedicated to SpideyPool and Speed Racer were placed front and center in the foyer and Jacq tossed her keys onto it. Enough Dr. Pepper to last the apocalypse, complete with a floor to ceiling display case of Jacq’s insane collection of sunglasses decorated the hallway. It was like college Jacq on crack had decorated.

“This place stretches for the entire size of the mall, just underground.” Jacq explained, leading the girls deeper into the bunker. “It has about 25 bedrooms, some large enough to contain several beds-”

“Jesus Christ,” Monica muttered.

“- and an arsenal filled with weapons to protect from attacks. You’ve seen the main kitchen, there are two smaller ones scattered throughout and several labs and offices. Alyssa, you’ll love this - there’s even a fully stocked library.”

“Thank God, some semblance of culture has made it,” Alyssa sighed. 

“I even have a small garden upstairs for you Monica, my visions suggested that I may see you all again so I took some liberties. We can put the horses in the Natural History Museum. There’s space there for them.” Jacq explained leading them on the tour. 

It didn’t take the girls long to feel right at home. In preparation for the possibility that they may show up Jacq had even made a little room for each of them next to each other. 

Monica’s space was clean and minimalist, finished off with a Kermit puppet and Perry the Platypus stuffed animal. Alyssa’s was different shades of fall with various posters of KPOP idols, horses, and Game of Thrones characters. Madi’s area was literally just a pile of clothes. 

“Oh, thank god” She said as she crawled in, happy with the weight of it on her body. 

“You’re a demon,” Jacq remarked as she brought out some Captain America waffles she had been in the process of making before her friends had arrived. The girls were back in town.

* * *

“Have you been here the whole time?” Alyssa asked, unable to hide that she was just a little impressed. Monica was already tearing through the waffles voraciously. Madi, for her part, had already disappeared entirely into the mound of clothes in her room and no one could coax her from them. Jacq shook her head, leaning her cane against the wall.

“I spent over a year on 595. It was safe, but difficult to navigate, kept trying to take me to the Navy Memorial.” Jacq snorted, as if to say,  _ who the hell would want to go to the Navy Memorial? _ “Lots of weird shit on the 595, but I avoided most of the chaos. And the . . . CDC breakout.”

Monica made an odd gargling noise, mouth filled with waffles, which Alyssa translated for her. “She wants to know what happened at the CDC.”

“Well, it all went to shit. Total fucking meltdown.” Jacq thought about taking one of the strawberries set out for the waffles, but one glare from Monica and she thought better of it, gently placing it back. Madi still hadn’t emerged from her pile, but her door was open so the girls figured she could hear them. “Workers abandoned the place, the attacks blew it to hell. All the air in this area is contaminated with all sorts of nasty shit.”

“ _ What?!” _ Alyssa, Monica, and even Madi (muffled though her response was, from the clothes and a few feet away) exclaimed at the same time. Jacq held up a hand piecably, moving over to a minifridge to rummage through it.

“It’s fine! You’re A) protected by blood magic now that you’re here, but B) I also have the ultimate vaccine. Something that will kill anything you might have been exposed to on your way in.” Jacq turned, tossing a can at Alyssa, who caught it instinctively. Alyssa turned it over in her hand, staring dubiously at the graphic design nightmare that passionately proclaimed the item in question to be FOUR LOKO.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Alyssa said, mouth agape. Jacq walked out of the kitchen to toss one to Madi, who stuck her hand out like the lady of the lake handing King Arthur Excalibur, and caught it. Her “Hell yeah!” echoed along the walls of the chamber as her face finally emerged, and Madi popped the tab and started chugging.

“It’s gross, but effective,” Jacq shrugged, and Monica accepted her own can of Four Loko with wary suspicion. Madi had already ingested hers, though, so they might as well all go feral together.

“I forgot how much I hate you,” Alyssa wrinkled her nose and popped the tab on her own can, but she wasn’t a little bitch, so she tipped her head back and chugged. Jacq leaned back against the counter, watching the proceedings. She’d seen Alyssa drink vodka out of a plastic bottle like it was water, this was nothing out of the ordinary.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure it’ll come back to you. Where the hell have you guys been, anyway?” Alyssa, Monica, and Madi exchanged glances before answering the question, quickly updating Jacq onto the state of the world as they’d seen it on their journey. 

“Wow,” Jacq shook her head, slightly dazed. “And to think this whole time I was just chillin’ watching Netflix and practicing dark magic.”

* * *

Weeks passed. The girls quickly settled into a routine life at Jacq’s safehouse. The biggest adjustment was just learning about the after effects of the war Jacq was privy to due to her blood magic. The survivors were minimal. Jacq, for one, lived alone. She had never reconnected with her family but hoped for the best, like they all did. She hoped for a sanctuary, somewhere whatever remained of the US existed but so far, nothing. Her constant scrying was turning up scat. 

They did their best to fight off the somber thoughts of destruction by making the safe house more homey and trying to keep busy with gardening and other nearby life-sustaining projects. Alyssa and Madi made runs into the abandoned city several times a week to search for resources and and idea for a direction for their next move. They knew they couldn’t stay in DC forever. It wasn’t a long term solution but the girls had no leads as to what to do next. 

It was on one of those weekly runs that their lives took yet another swerve.

They were at Target. Or, what remained of it. The building itself was half destroyed. They had tied their two horses (Washington and Kesha) to a Target ball out front and dragged their duffels inside to load up. 

“How long do you think a Twinkies shelf life is?” Madi asked, holding up a package. 

“God, I don’t know.” Alyssa replied. “How long has it even been? What day of the week is it? My time construct is all fucked up.”

“Uh. I don’t know. I think it’s a Tuesday?” Madi answered, searching the box for any inclination of mold. 

“Well, I’m sure they’re fine. What kind of monster makes things expire on a Tuesday? Plus, I think I saw in  _ Zombieland _ that it takes a fucking long ass time for those things to expire because of all the artificial and cancerous shit.”

“Perfect.” Madi said stuffing the box into her already packed duffle. She picked up a can of beans that looked like it was swelling from the inside. “What was that thing you said about botulism?” 

Alyssa grabbed the can from Madi and inspected it. “Oh, fuck yeah. This shit definitely has botulism.” Her face spread into a grin. Madi looked at her in disgust.

“Why is that a  _ good  _ thing?” 

Alyssa looked at her before shoving the can into a bag. “My dude. If anyone tries to come near us, we throw the can and BAM instantly dead. Botulism acts quick.”

“But how do we know we won’t also get infected?”

Alyssa considered this. “Huh. I guess there are some kinks in the plan, but we’ll cross that bridge when we get there. What’s important is that now we are officially players in the biowarfare industry.” 

“Does botulism even work like that?”

“I don’t know. I read about it in Biology in 10th grade and thought it was both terrifying and intriguing.”

“So, we’re literally keeping this can of infected beans because you think botulism sounds  _ cool? _ ”

A huge crash echoed throughout the Target. Both girls froze and exchanged wide-eyed glances.

“Did you bring the guns?” Alyssa stage whispered. They had recently come across some guns in a Dick’s Sporting Goods but had no idea if they were loaded right. There was also the fact that neither of them were what you would call ‘sharpshooters’. Regardless, they made the girls feel better. 

Madi shook her head. She’d forgotten. Another crash.

“ _ Fuck.”  _ Alyssa said. “Grab the can, it’s literally our only defense.” 

Madi grabbed the can of botulism beans. “What if it doesn’t burst open?”

“Then at least we can nail them with a can. Y’know in that case. . . “ Alyssa grabbed two more cans. A noodle soup and creamed corn. “Now we’re ready to party.” 

They pushed their duffles behind a tupperware display case and began to creep across the destroyed Target towards the source of the noise. As they approached they saw three figures, hunched over a fallen shelf in the Pharmacy section of the store. They were speaking to each other, but the girls couldn’t make out the words. It didn’t seem to be English. 

As the girls sneaked closer the three figures turned into Asian men who looked to be in their mid to late twenties. They were clearly not cut out for survival because none of them noticed Alyssa or Madi. The girls stopped a few rows away to plan their attack. The men continued to discuss heavily in their foreign tongue. 

“Okay. I know this is gonna sound crazy.” Madi whispered clutching her botulism can. 

“Hmm?” Alyssa murmured. She was trying to determine how they could get out of there if the men proved hostile. Madi and her were tall, for girls. But two of the men were taller. One, extremely. They also didn’t look like they were hurting, physically. All seemed to be in pretty good shape and the middle one could be termed with what the kids were calling ‘ripped’ nowadays.  _ Well, fuck. _

“Alyssa. Are you listening?” Madi poked her with the can.

“Sorry I was thinking about how we could take them out. They look pretty strong.”

“No,  _ listen. _ I’m not positive  _ but  _ I think that could be RM and Jungkook from BTS. Not sure who the third one is. Jimin?”

If Alyssa had been drinking water, she would have spit it out. 

“Madi, what the fuck. I know it’s been awhile since we’ve seen some tasty men but-”

“No, I’m serious.  _ Look. _ ” She motioned to the middle one. “That’s Jungkook. I mean, granted, his hair is dark again and grown out into that disgusting man bun. But, I’d recognize that ass  _ anywhere. _ He was basically my minor in college. I studied that boy like it was my job senior year.” 

Alyssa  _ did  _ look. The middle man did resemble Korean pop-star Jungkook. Or, what he would look like now, if he had survived an apocalypse. She glanced at the tallest one. With his mono lidded eyes and striking features, he  _ could  _ potentially be an older RM. The smallest one was harder. He was wearing a hooded bucket hat and baggy sweatshirt and she couldn’t quite make out who it was but wouldn’t have pegged Jimin. Suga, perhaps?

“Okay. I’ll bite. Say they’re the Korean legends from BTS. Which-” Alyssa held up a finger to Madi. “I’m not saying they are. But let’s pretend. What the  _ fuck  _ would they be doing in a half blown up Target on the outskirts of what used to be Washington, DC?”

“Well, God, Alyssa. I never said I had it all figured out. It’s just, they look an awful lot like them. And they’re speaking Korean. In a Target. 10 feet in front of us. If this isn’t the plot of a KDrama, then I don’t know what is.” 

“Well, in a KDrama, I’m sure the world wouldn’t have ended.”

“You’re right. This is an American Drama. The American dream is alive and thriving, folks.”

The boys had quieted down and seemed to be stuffing some kind of medicine into a small bag they produced. 

“There’s only one way to find out. . . “ Madi whispered. Alyssa looked at her.

“Absolutely not. We are on defensive measures only. Engage if provoked.”

“But,  _ Alyssa _ . It’s  _ other people.  _ Not to sound ungrateful, but I really am tired of seeing only you three all the time. I need some fresh meat.” She stood up. Alyssa gripped her shirt. 

“ Madi,  _ no!  _ We don’t know anything about them. They could be hostile!” 

But Madi didn’t care. She waltzed towards the men who immediately froze what they were doing and twisted to look at her. The smallest of the three looked particularly alarmed. Alyssa stayed hidden.

“What’s up?” Madi exclaimed throwing out her arms. 

In hindsight, Alyssa could understand how what Madi did was received as an act of aggression. Linguistic and cultural differences as well as Madi having not combed her hair that day definitely contributed to the factor that she looked like a crazy woman bearing a swollen can of beans charging towards them. But, at the time, Alyssa wasn’t thinking of politics. She was thinking of how she had to protect her friend.

The little one charged.

Like, literally dropped the bag filled with mysterious medicine and charged, screaming, at Madi. Who, in her defense, stood mouth agape not fully comprehending what was happening.

“Woa- wait. What are you-” She backed up a few steps as he rushed towards her, intending to tackle.

Alyssa felt herself act before she could think. She darted out from behind the aisle, wound up her arm, aimed, and released. 

Now, Alyssa had never played any sports. In fact, she was never good at aiming in general. Not even Wii sports. She even sucked at Tennis. But for some ungodly reason, the spirit of Babe Ruth was on her side because she nailed that sucker with the can of creamed corn.

Right in the head.

He went down like a rock, rolling to a stop inches from Madi who clutched her can of bacteria to her chest like a delicate baby. The other two men stood, stunned.

“Madi! Are you okay?” Alyssa shouted, running to her friend. 

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine.” Madi said looking down at the man. His hat had fallen off and he lay unconscious on the ground. 

“Ah man, Alyssa. You killed Suga.”

Alyssa looked at the man. His face had aged gracefully and delicate facial hair dusted his upper lip. It definitely  _ looked  _ like Suga.

Madi turned to the other two men and brandished her can like a bomb.

“Okay, losers. Who’s NEXT?”

“Madi, wait wait wait wait!” Alyssa grabbed the botulism from Madi. “We don’t want to  _ kill  _ them. Here,” she gave her the noodle soup. “Use this one.”

Madi was a better shot than Alyssa. She shot to kill. 

But before she could show off her skills, the tallest man stepped forward hands outstretched like he was trying to calm a spooked horse.

“Woa, woa, woa. Let’s all take it easy.” He said, in flawless English.

“Take it  _ easy?”  _ Alyssa said stepping in front of Madi who waved the can with crazy eyes. “Your friend  _ attacked  _ us!” 

“I mean, to be fair,  _ your  _ friend-” he motioned to Madi who was now hopping from foot to foot with the can and making threatening finger motions to the other man who, for his credit, just raised a single eyebrow. “- came at us first.”

Alyssa looked over her shoulder at Madi. “She can’t help it! That’s just the way she greets new people!”

“Well. It was intimidating. He acted in self defense. Your friend appears to be rabid. We couldn’t be sure.”

“‘Couldn’t be sure?’ Bitch, hold my can.” Alyssa gave the botul-can to Madi who now raised both cans over her head like a crab before looking at the second male again.

“Boom boom, bitch.” Madi whispered. 

“Madi, please stop acting like a crazy person.”

“What? I figured we were doing our intimidation technique. Good cop, bad cop. Y’know the ole’ get ‘em while you can?”

Alyssa sighed. “No. We are trying to make nice with the mystery boys. Put the cans down.”

Madi reluctantly put the cans down. She pushed the botulism one further, for dramatic effect. Everyone waited.

“Now then.” Alyssa turned her attention back to the big one.”You better back off,  _ buddy. _ Because I have had a rough few years and I’m not afraid to take out some  _ punk  _ because he calls my friend  _ crazy.”  _

“But, Alyssa. I  _ am  _ crazy.” Madi whispered to Alyssa.

“Yes, but  _ he  _ doesn’t need to know that. Only we can call you crazy. Keep working the little one.” Alyssa whispered back.

“Got it.” Madi resumed making crazy eyes and obscene gestures to the beefy boy earning a small grin from him. He didn’t seem to think she was crazy. 

“Okay, okay. Can we start over? I didn’t mean to offend.” The tall one resumed speaking. Alyssa wished he wouldn’t. He was annoying. 

When no one answered, he held out a hand to Alyssa.

“I’m Kim Namjoon.”

“You’re kidding, right?” Alyssa said staring at his hand. He slowly lowered it to his side.

“Excuse me?”

“Kim Namjoon? Like,  _ RM?  _ From the Korean boy band, BTS?”

He rubbed the back of his neck. The idiot had the audacity to look bashful.  _ Bashful.  _

“Oh. . . uh.. . yeah? Are you guys Army?”

“Not anymore.” Alyssa replied. Madi snorted. 

“I’m Jungkook.” The beefy one awkwardly waved from where he stood a few feet behind Namjoon. He pointed to the body on the ground. “The one you nailed with the can? That’s Yoongi.” 

“I fuckin’ told you.” Madi whispered over Alyssa’s shoulder again. “I’d recognize that ass  _ anywhere.”  _

A moan came from the body of Yoongi. Namjoon rushed over to him and gently shook him. No response.

“God, Kook, we gotta get him back. He may have a concussion.” Namjoon gave Alyssa a pointed look.

“If you think I’m going to apologize for hitting a man who was about to assault my friend, you’re going to be waiting awhile.” 

“Regardless, he needs medical attention.”

“Regardless, it’s not my problem.” 

Jungkook and Madi both snorted. Namjoon threw his hands in the air.

“ _ Fine.  _ Kook, help me lift him.” Jungkook joined Namjoon in hoisting the smaller man up onto his feet and they both supported one of his arms.

“How far away are you guys?” Madi asked, picking up their forgotten bag of medicine. Both men exchanged glances. “What? You think I’m gonna sneak in there and murder you or something?”

A moment.

“Uh, yeah, actually.” Jungkook finally said. 

“Although, I’m flattered. You’re not worth murdering. You’re better looking alive.” Madi stated. Jungkook looked taken aback. “I was just  _ asking  _ because we have some horses out front that may make moving him quicker.”

Another glance between the men. Namjoon glanced at Alyssa. Alyssa crossed her arms and gave him her best scowl. To hell he was touching  _ her  _ horse. 

“Look, I don’t feel comfortable tellin-” Namjoon began.

“We’ve been using an apartment building on the north side of town as a base.” Jungkook interrupted. “One of our friends is really sick. It took us half a day to find this store but it was the only one that carried this medicine.”

“Well, God, Jungkook. Tell them you’re whole life story while you’re at it.” Namjoon muttered. Alyssa looked at the younger boy and felt her anger soften. Jungkook sounded like he had good intentions. He was just trying to help his friends. He couldn’t help it he had two dicks as companions. 

“Well. You’re across town. Our base is closer. We’re below the Washington Monument-” Alyssa started. 

“ _ Below  _ the Washington Monument?” Namjoon interrupted, raising an eyebrow. Madi leaned in closer to him before whispering:

“Blood magic.”

He raised both eyebrows now and slowly nodded his head as one does when he is trying not to spook a wild boar. 

“You’re both insane. Great.” 

“We’re not  _ crazy! _ ” Alyssa said. “And if you don’t stop saying that, I’m going to throw my botulism bomb at you!”

Namjoon looked at the can Alyssa was referring to before looking back at her.

“That’s a can of baked beans.” He stated.

Alyssa picked it up and shoved it in his face. 

“Yeah I know it’s  _ beans  _ but it’s filled with botulism you  _ idiot.  _ Don’t you see that the pressure is building up and - why am I EXPLAINING myself to you!?” 

Namjoon took a step back and almost dropped Yoongi causing the man to let out another guttural moan. 

“Look, I’m sorry I insulted your can. Can you please help us get him back to our base?”

Madi felt the bump on Yoongi’s forehead and turned to Alyssa. 

“We should take them to our base. It’s closer. He may need some of Monica’s medicinal herbs. It’s swelling pretty bad.”

“Hell no.” Alyssa replied. “We are not showing them where we live.”

“You already said you lived below the Washington Monument.” Namjoon replied earning a glare from Alyssa who threw up her hands in defeat. 

“ _ Fine. _ Let’s take the homicidal boy band to our blood magic base.”

The gang dragged Yoongi out to where they had parked George Washington and Kesha and loaded him up along with their duffels and the bag of medicine before beginning the trek back to the safe house. The journey was short but they moved mostly in silence before Namjoon eventually spoke up. 

“I’m sorry. For Yoongi. And also for calling you both crazy.”

‘“It’s fine,” Madi spoke up from behind him. “I actually am crazy.” 

Namjoon smiled. “ We’ve just been under a lot of pressure and now with Jin-”

“Jin’s sick?” Alyssa asked. “Are all of you together?” 

“Yeah. It was spotty for a while. We were performing in Jersey when everything went to shit. Our manager couldn’t get us out in time and we got stuck. We got separated for a bit but eventually all found our way back together. We started heading to DC because it was the last standing airport but. . . . well y’know. Shit hit the fan. We bunkered down.”

“Damn.” Madi said. “How many of you are there?”

“Just the band, really.” Jungkook said. “The others didn’t make it.”

“Well. Once we get Yoongi to the base, I can go with one of you tomorrow to find the others and get medicine to Jin. We can figure out what to do from there while Yoongi recovers.” Alyssa said.

Namjoon offered her a weak smile. Trying to offer an olive branch. 

“Thanks, that’d be great.”

Before long, the monument rose into view and Monica could be seen at the base doing some gardening. She looked up and noticed the rather large group and two horses coming into view and began to run towards them in alarm. It was only when she got close enough to see who they were that she stopped.

“You’ve got to be  _ fucking kidding me. _ ” She muttered. Alyssa jogged towards her, leaving the others behind.

“Is that fucking _ BTS?”  _ Monica exclaimed. Namjoon offered a small wave. Jungkook let out a bunny smile.

Alyssa gripped Monica by the shoulders and pulled her head close.

“We will explain everything but first, I need you to run inside and take down every KPOP poster in the house and burn it.”

“What? Why?”

“Come on, Monica. You know why. We can’t let them know we stan them. It’ll make their egos even bigger. And trust me, they have egos.”

Monica nodded. “Who’s on the horse?”

“Suga.”

“What happened?”

“I hit him in the head with a can of creamed corn.”

“Jesus Christ. I’ll get my first aid kit and set him up a bed.”

“That’d be best.”

And with that, Monica ran inside to delete any evidence of the girls liking KPOP ( a hefty feat since they were in so deep) and Alyssa and Madi led the men to their makeshift stable. Jungkook and Namjoon hauled Yoongi off Kesha and the girls led him inside. 

Despite the whole dismounting taking about 10 minutes, tops, Monica had done a fantastic job of disassembling their KPOP shrine and enlisting Jacq with setting Yoongi up on a cot in a corner of one of the spare rooms.

The men shuffled him in before plopping Yoongi gently on the cot. Short introductions were made with Jacq and Monica before Monica settled down to do her work. The men were clearly still wary of the girls ( I mean, they were at a disadvantage here and trusting that the girls were not, in fact, mass murderers). Monica brought over her first aid kit and gently pushed back Yoongi’s hair. He groaned, softly. 

“God, Alyssa. You really nailed him.” 

Alyssa shrugged. “It was an act of passion. He was charging Madi.” 

“You could have at least aimed for his chest.” Namjoon said, some of his earlier frustration surfacing again.

“I  _ was  _ aiming for his chest!” Alyssa shot back.

“No arguing in my sick bay!” Monica demanded. “Actually, you know what. Everyone get out. All this bad mojo is probably stressing my patience out.” She pointed at Jungkook. “You can stay. That way if he dies or something you people can’t say I poisoned him.” Monica was covering all her bases. 

Everyone else made their way into the living room. Namjoon whispered to Alyssa “Is she a doctor or something?”

Alyssa snorted. “Hah! No. She has absolutely no medical training.” 

His face fell.

“Relax.” Jacq piped in. She had taken a seat on one of their big arm chairs and was knitting something. “Monica’s Mom was a doctor. Plus, his injury is minor. Easy fix.” 

“What if he like, passes out or something and goes into a coma?” he asked.

“If he doesn’t wake up by tomorrow, he may as well be dead.” Madi replied. 

Namjoon looked shocked and sat in sullen silence for a time, but Alyssa doubted it would last. Sure enough, a few moments later he was back to the interrogation. 

“So. . . uh, Jacq? What are you knitting?” 

Jacq doesn’t look at him as she continues to knit. “Winter clothes for us. This winter is gonna be bad.”

“How can you tell? It’s August.” 

“Jacq is the one with the blood magic.” Madi stated matter of factly. Namjoon looked horrified. 

“What the fuck, is  _ blood magic? _ ” He asked, appalled. 

“All in good time, young grasshopper.” Madi said as she stood and made her way to the kitchen, presumably to get salami and cheese. “Can’t go revealing all our secrets on the first day.” 

Namjoon threw his hands up in the air. “Okay. Whatever, you people are crazy. We need to discuss what’s going to happen next.”

“Next?” Alyssa asked. “I already told you I’d go with you tomorrow to take the medicine to your friend while Yoongi recovers. We have plenty of space here we don’t use. I can show you and Jungkook to your rooms when he comes out. Seperate or together, whichever you prefer.”

Namjoon looked a bit taken aback and flushed red. “Uh-. . . we’re not. . I mean-”

Alyssa held up a hand. “I’m not suggesting that. I’m just saying that if you still feel like we might kill you, there’s some rooms with multiple beds if you guys want to stay together. But, judging by  _ that  _ reaction. . . “

“No! No, no we are absolutely  _ not  _ together.”

“Okay.”

“But uh. . . we can totally share a room.”

Madi came back with her salami, uncut and stood in the entryway of the living room taking bites from the solid block, a sly grin on her face. “Gayyyyyyyyyy” She said. 

Namjoon scowled. “How did we get on this topic?”

“You’re the one who went there.” Alyssa said. She thought it was hilarious how quickly he got worked up over this topic. But, knowing his fans prior to the war, I’m sure he’s seen all the theories about the boys. “I forgot to ask earlier, but what exactly is wrong with Jin? Is his sick? Injured?”

“Both?” Namjoon sighed and leaned back in his chair. “He got cut while he was out on a mission. It was pretty deep but it didn’t look like it needed stitches. So we cleaned it and figured that was that. But, lo and behold, it got infected. Now he’s got the works. Fever, nausea. The wound is a nasty red color and puss is coming out. I’m afraid he may have blood poisoning.”

“So, the medicine you got. . .”

“Antibiotics. Of course, getting them is easier said than done. Every person immediately following the downfall of the country raided the pharmacies for stuff like that so we we’re having a hell of a time finding them. But, he’s not so bad off that I think he’s beyond saving or anything like that. I honestly think that if we get this to him promptly, he’ll be fine.”

“Gotcha,” Alyssa said. “We’ll go first thing in the morning.” 

Madi padded back to the kitchen to continue to snack and Alyssa eventually lost herself in a novel on the coffee table. Jacq continued to knit, unperturbed. Namjoon looked like he was about to fall asleep. Alyssa stopped for a second to glance at him from the corner of her eye. For months now, the girls had been alone. I mean, they were  _ really  _ alone prior to finding one another again but now they were used to relying on each other. She wasn’t sure what to make of the tall, awkward man who sat across from her or the others in the room off to her right. Would they endanger the girls? They were, after all, in their place of living and Alyssa was well aware that any of them could easily eliminate the girls and take their home. She didn’t trust him or his friends one bit.

Well, possibly Jungkook. He was a sweetie. 

When Namjoon spoke, Alyssa wasn’t sure she had heard him right and made a noise of confusion that had him repeat his statement, slightly louder.

“I said thanks.” he said, eyes not meeting hers. “ I mean, yes, we’re here because you hit Yoongi with a can of corn, but thanks for letting us in. You guys could have left us-”

“We wouldn’t have done that.”

He met her eyes and offered a weak smile. Alyssa could see the stress lines that furrowed his brow and wondered what kind of shit he had seen the past few years. “ Yeah, but you could have. People have no humanity anymore.”

“You’ve seen other people?” Alyssa couldn’t keep the surprise out of her voice.

“Yeah,” Namjoon replied. “And most of the time, it’s turned into a nasty situation. We’ve stuck to just us since the last one.” He must have seen the questioning look on her face because he stopped her. “I’ll tell you about it sometime. Speaking of, after we get Jin the medicine, what’s next?”

“Hm? I’m not sure. I guess that depends on Yoongi’s condition? When he can move and such. Then we can take all three of you back. Deliver you to whence you came. And be done with each other? I mean, we’ll know each other exists obviously but both of our groups seem to be doing well on our own, so why risk it?” 

Namjoon ran his fingers through his long hair. Not as long as Jungkooks, but definitely top heavy with a surprisingly strong wave to it. Alyssa tried not to stare too long. 

“ . .. . okay. That sounds solid.”

“Are you hungry?” Alyssa offered. “We have food.”

“I am, a bit. I’m sure Jungkook’s starving. He skipped breakfast because he overslept before the mission.” 

“I can cook.” Jacq volunteered from where she sat on the floor. Alyssa had almost forgotten she was there. “You two seem to be getting along nicely so I’ll just. . . .” She trailed off and waggled her eyebrows at Alyssa before joining Madi in the kitchen. Alyssa could have stabbed her. 

“Well. That was awkward.” Namjoon stated and Alyssa chuckled.

“That’s Jacq.”

The door to Monica’s makeshift sick bay swung open and Jungkook stood in the doorway. Namjoon stood up immediately.

“Well?” 

“He’s fine.” Jungkook said. “He woke up and we talked for a minute, but he’s exhausted. I caught him up on everything that happened but he fell back asleep a few minutes ago.” Jungkook addressed Alyssa “He apologized for charging you both. And Alyssa, he commends you on such a great shot. Says he’d love to challenge you in a game sometime.”

“A game of what?”

“I don’t know. Dodgeball?”

“Hard pass.”

Jungkook chuckled.

“Well, I’m glad to hear I didn’t kill him.” Alyssa said as Monica came out of the sick bay and quietly closed the door before clapping her hands together. 

“Great. Now that we don’t have a cadaver on our hands, dinner?” 

  
  



	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy 25th Birthday , Kim Namjoon!
> 
> Here's another chapter of this nonsense.

Namjoon was no horseman. Although Alyssa wasn’t surprised, she did get a small amount of glee out of watching one of her favorites idols from when she was a young adult and who she thought was perfect in every way, fail at something she found second nature. 

The night had been easy. After dinner the girls had shown the two conscious boys where they could bunker down and said goodnight. Namjoon and Alyssa had gotten up early to get a head start on the day. Yoongi was conscious, but dizzy and settled in on the couch with some old sports magazines. Monica waved to them from the garden as she picked the days produce. 

They had been on the road for about twenty minutes, heading in a direction that Namjoon was ‘fairly positive’ their base was in before the sky began to darken. 

“Are you  _ sure  _ this is the right way?” Alyssa asked for the fourth time. 

“As I said earlier: I’m like 80% sure.” 

Alyssa looked at the storm clouds brewing overhead, making the shadows of the city look even more intimidating. She didn’t want to know what could be lurking in the ruins. 

“. . . that doesn’t make me feel any better.” 

Namjoon brought Rosa Parks to a halt abruptly and Alyssa nearly ran into him. He pointed at the ruins of what was a boujee apartment complex a few blocks up. 

“There! That’s it. I fucking told you.” He grinned foolishly before kicking Rosa Parks too hard and she bolted forward a bit causing him to nearly lose his balance. Alyssa debated shoving him off the horse but decided it would only waste time and she didn’t want to get her hair wet so she followed reluctantly. 

They left the horses in the downstairs lobby before making their way up the 11 flights of stairs. I kid you not. Fucking  _ 11 flights.  _ With the full packs that Monica had prepared for Jin, it was no easy feat. 

“Why. . . . the  _ fuck. . . .”  _ Alyssa panted, dragging her feet a few paces behind an eager Namjoon. He had offered to carry both their packs but they were so insanely heavy, Alyssa felt bad if he had to carry double the weight. “Did you. . . . .guys pick. . . . the  _ 11th story?” _

“Isn’t it obvious? Better vantage point of the city. Less unexpected visitors. Plus-” He slapped his ass playfully. “- it keeps us all hot.”

“You’re gonna need a lot more than 11 flights of stairs to help with that.” 

Namjoon ignored the comment as he exited the stairwell and led Alyssa to an interior apartment door. He did some kind of elaborate knock which Alyssa found completely unnecessary considering there was an eyehole on the door but whatever. He was foreign. 

Almost immediately the door swung open and an older, frazzled Jimin stood in the doorway. His hair was also it’s natural color and he looked like he hadn’t slept in days. He probably hadn’t. 

He blurted something in Korean to Namjoon who responded earnestly, motioning to Alyssa. Alyssa didn’t speak a lick of Korean but got an A in AP English so her deduction skills were top notch. Jimin shot her a heated glare that took her back momentarily.  _ Okayyy, there is some hostility there.  _ She slipped the bag of her shoulder and pulled out some of the medicine one of the boys had taken a can to the head for. 

“Namjoon, if you need to take this and have me wait outside, it’s fine.”

Jimin finally turned his full attention to Alyssa. The glare he shot her conveyed angry and betrayal. Alyssa squinted her eyes, trying to remember if maybe she had run into Jimin accidently in the time before and had cut him off or something? Maybe he found one of her BTS fan accounts where she said he had ‘eyes like a sex demon’? No, the hostility she detected from Jimin seemed to be of a more general hatred. Not specific. Namjoon said something sternly to him in his own tongue and Jimin stepped aside, giving them access to the apartment. 

“It’s fine,” Namjoon said to Alyssa. He pulled her into the apartment after him, past Jimin. “He’s just scared. Like I said before, we’ve had some bad luck with other survivors in the past. A few of us got hurt. Hoseok, critically.”

“Ah,” Alyssa responded as Namjoon led her through a rather cluttered and expansive apartment. It looked like the boys had torn down walls between the apartments to expand. The entire 11th floor seemed to be an almost open floor plan for them. “That explains why he’s so standoffish, I guess? By the way, how much English does everyone know? I don’t know any Korean and want to be able to converse with them if you’re unavailable.”

“Well, you know Jungkook is pretty fluent. Yoongi is pretty good, Jin also. The others have been studying it while we’ve been trapped here. When all the people you encounter only speak English, it’s safer to be able to converse with them.” 

Alyssa nodded. Namjoon had led her to an open room containing a rather large bed. Although the room had huge floor to ceiling windows, black out curtains were pulled taut against the sun. The only light came from a few candles that lay arbitrarily around the room. The room was orderly, or as much as it could be for 7 boys sharing such a small space. A figure lay in the bed, covered in blankets and another sat on a stool by the side of the bed, head leaning on the covers.

As they walked into the room, the figure napping on the stool abruptly sat up. Although he was older, and his staple smile was missing from his face Alyssa recognized his half moon eyes and high cheekbones. He had a nasty scar down the left side of his otherwise flawless face and Alyssa tried not to linger on it for too long.

“Alyssa, Hoseok. Hoseok, Alyssa. Hoseok is on Jin duty currently, it appears.”

Namjoon wasted no time as he barreled into the room and slipped off his pack, scattering the contents onto the floor. Alyssa offered Hoseok an awkward wave which he returned cautiously before she started following Namjoon’s suit. When the contents of both bags lay on the ground she began to sort through and hand items to Namjoon in the order Monica had recommended. She found two notes in her bag. Unfolding the first, she saw it was a note from Monica reminding her the order of operations and what to do if something went wrong before concluding and wishing her luck. The second note made Alyssa snort. It was a note from Madi that simply read:

Good luck getting WorldWide Handsome WorldWide Healthy. 

Alyssa slipped it in her pocket, not showing the guys despite Namjoon’s confused look. Hoseok left his stool and padded over to where Namjoon and Alyssa crouched over the ground. He asked something quietly in Korean and Namjoon answered curtly before his tone shifted and Hoseok left the room quietly. 

“Where is he going?” Alyssa inquired softly, not wanting to disturb the still sleeping Jin. She hadn’t gotten a good look at him yet but he was concerningly pale and his breathing was erratic. 

“To get a bowl of warm water and a towel. I have a feeling it’s gonna get messy if we need to reopen the wound.”

She nodded and wondered why exactly she was here. It made more sense for Monica to come, and she had said as much last night after the boys had gone to bed. But Monica hadn’t wanted to go alone with Namjoon and honestly, Alyssa was more prepared to fight her way out if a problem arose. For the safety of her friend and the fact that Alyssa had had the most interaction with Namjoon, she had come along. Plus, Monica had assured her it should be fairly straight forward. As long as no blood poisoning had set in, that is. 

Hoseok returned shortly with the bowl and offered it to Alyssa with a feeble smile.  _ Well,  _ she thought bitterly to herself,  _ at least this one doesn’t outright hate me.  _ Jimin hadn’t made another appearance since letting them in and she was grateful. She didn’t want him glowering at her all day. 

Namjoon and Alyssa gathered up the materials they needed immediately and laid them on the bedside table. Namjoon pulled back the comforter revealing the bandaged leg that he slowly began to unwrap. When the wound was open to the air, Alyssa couldn’t stop the sharp exhale that whistled out from between her clenched teeth. It was  _ grody.  _ The wound itself didn’t look terribly deep but it was an awful yellow green color and the smell of the pus that rose up from it made her wish she had brought a plastic bag to vomit into. 

“I see you’ve met my alarming friend,” said an alluring male voice.

Alyssa tore her eyes from the gaping hole in Jin’s leg to meet his eyes. He was pale and sticky, probably from fever but despite it was smiling feebly at her. She hadn’t even realized he had regained consciousness.

“Hi, I don’t believe we’ve met, I’m Jin and you’re beautiful.”

“Jin, stop flirting with her,” Namjoon said, eyes intent on the wound as he wrung out the towel Hoseok had brought. “Hoseok, hold him down. This is gonna hurt like a bitch. Alyssa, scalpel.”

“Ah, don’t be like that Joonie.” Jin said leaning his head back on the bedframe and closing his eyes. “It’s not every day I get to see a pretty girl and today may be my last day on this earth.”

“Don’t be dramatic,” Namjoon stated. “You’re not going to die.”

Alyssa handed Namjoon the scalpel and Hoseok knelt on the bed, arms pressing on Jin’s leg, holding him steady. They had to clean and drain the wound first before disinfecting it again. 

“Namjoon, should we give him the pills while he’s conscious?” Alyssa asked, taking another towel and wiping some sweat from Jin’s forehead. He opened his eyes and gave her another weak smile.

“I like this one,” Jin said and Namjoon rolled his eyes.

“God, sick with fever and you still flirt with any living thing. Yeah, there’s a glass of water on the stand. See if you can get him to drink it with them.” 

Alyssa opened a bottle of pills and poured a few in her hand before grabbing the glass and rearranging herself so that she was next to Jin’s head. 

“Hey, do you think you could sit up a bit so that you could drink this?” She asked tentatively. 

Jin met her eyes. “No, I’m too weak. You’re going to have to cradle me.”

Alyssa shot him a glare. “You were literally sitting up a minute ago.”

“I’ve lost my will to live. You’ll have to bring it back.”

Namjoon made an exasperated noise from where he stood crouched over Jin’s wound. “How is that you’re the oldest and yet act the most like a child? Just take the damn pills, Jin.” 

“Fine, fine. If only because you’re literally crouching over me with a sharp blade.” Jin took the glass from Alyssa’s hands and the pills before tossing them back into his mouth and shotgunning the water. “Are these going to make me black out? Because I would very much like to be in a dark abyss right now.”

“No, but I think we have something for that.” Alyssa said scooting off the bed. Monica had included some high profile painkillers that would definitely induce a dream state to make the procedure easier. She handed them to Jin who took them gratefully.

“I think you might be my soulmate.”

“I think your fever is getting the best of you.” 

“Are you sure? Because if I wasn’t bed ridden right now I’d like to be riding- AH FUCK!” Jin screamed.

Alyssa tore her eyes from Jin and looked to where Namjoon crouched, scalpel in hand, slicing into the oozing wood. Hoseok’s grip tightened on Jin’s leg, his knuckles white with pressure. 

“Oops,” Namjoon said, a small smile tugging on the corner of his lips. 

“You did that on purpose. I know you can be gentle with a knife.” Jin grunted, his teeth clenched tightly together.

“I won’t deny it.” Namjoon replied. He was squeezing the puss from the wound and wiping it off with the cloth. It just kept oozing and oozing. Alyssa thanked God that she had eaten a light breakfast. “It seems to be the only thing that’ll make you shut up.”

Hoseok said something in Korean and Namjoon snorted before replying. Jin looked like he wanted to shrivel up and die. 

Once the wound was clean, Alyssa disinfected it while Namjoon cleaned his hands. Jin had stopped teasing by now and looked like he was about to pass out. The pain killers had kicked in a few minutes in but nothing was strong enough to completely eliminate it. He dozed off as they cleaned up the room and shortly exited into one of the makeshift living rooms. The boys immediately collapsed onto one of the couches and Alyssa began to gather her belongings.

“Well. It seems like he’s okay for now.” Alyssa said, repacking her backpack. “I should probably head back. Did you want to come back with me or stay the night here? I can bring the others here tomorrow. Yoongi should be strong enough and-”

A door across the room slammed open and a man Alyssa hadn’t met yet stood in the doorway, looking panicked. Hoseok and Namjoon jumped to their feet. 

He shouted something in Korean and the other men grabbed some binoculars off a table. Jimin burst into the room and soon all four were conversing loudly. Alyssa sat, stunned before Namjoon seemed to remember she was there at all and pulled her to her feet, dragging her out the open door with the rest of them.

“That’s Taehyung. Obviously. He was keeping watch, he says some hostiles have been sighted a few blocks over. Making a beeline for our base.”

“What? Hostiles? What does that  _ mean? _ ” 

“Sasaengs.” Namjoon whispered and Alyssa’s eyes widened. She’d heard rumors of the Sasaengs, biologically modified people who were dropped by opposing countries during the war to seek and destroy all civilian life. The girls had managed to avoid them so far by sheer luck, it seemed. 

“I thought they were a myth.” Alyssa said as the boys crowded her up a ladder and onto the roof of the complex. Taehyung was pointing down at the street and the group all crowded him and looked over. 

A group of roughly 20 shapes were moving towards the building. Shapes because they weren’t all humanoid in nature and some seemed to be crawling or dragging others. The sheer mass of some of them was enough to make Alyssa shudder. She had never seen anything remotely like this in her life.

Then Hoseok uttered the single word that seemed to be universal in every language.

“Fuck.”

* * *

Alyssa’s first concern was the horses. She remembered saying as much to Namjoon before bolting down the ladder and through the apartment. She heard him shout after her but she was already gone. The horses were one of the girls’ greatest assets. They provided great transportation opportunities and helped with the garden work. Not to mention they had become pets of the girls. Reliable friends. 

She was almost halfway down the stairs before she heard thundering steps behind her. It was Namjoon and Taehyung. The former looked pissed and the latter, confused. But honestly, that was Taehyung’s normal face. 

“We’re coming with you.” Taehyung said slowly, in English. Alyssa grinned at him but the smile fell from her face when she met Namjoon’s eyes.

“Even though you’re a  _ fucking idiot. _ ” Namjoon finished, brushing past her and continuing to run down the stairs. Taehyung and Alyssa followed closely. 

When they got to the lobby, Alyssa realized how unearthly quiet it was. As if the whole block knew what was coming. No radioactive birds sang, no wind whistled through the ruins. She quickly untied the two horses and led them outside, trying to shake the feeling that she was being watched. The hairs on the back of her neck rose, stiffly. An unearthly breeze picked up and Alyssa looked at the sky. It was still dark, like a storm approached, but there was no thunder or lightening. She wondered if it was natural at all.

She pulled Madi’s paper from her pocket and searched for a pen.

“Pen?” She shouted, looking back at the two men who stood in the doorway.

“Why the fuck would I have a pen?” Namjoon shouted back. Taehyung, ever the helpful one, pulled a pencil from his pocket and brought it over to her. 

“Thanks,” Alyssa said, quickly writing a message to the girls letting them know what was happening and secured it to George Washington’s bridle.

“Go home,” She whispered to the two horses and slapped them both on their butts. They took off in the direction of the girl’s base. They knew how to get home.She turned back to the men.

“Okay. What now?” 

* * *

The next ten minutes were a flurry of activity. Alyssa was whisked back up the stairs and into the apartment that Hoseok and Jimin had already started to prepare for their visitors. Jin, sleeping a peaceful drug induced slumber, did not stir when Alyssa poked her head in. 

“With any luck, he’ll sleep through the whole thing.”

Alyssa jumped and turned to see Namjoon standing behind her. She pulled Jin’s door shut and turned to him.

“Hopefully. What exactly is the plan here?”

The other guys had finished boarding up all entrances to the apartment and were bringing weapons and mysterious objects into the living space and dumping them on the ground. Taehyung picked up what looked to be an AK47 and pumped it once before answering her question.

“We kill ‘em. Tata here never misses” 

Alyssa raised an eyebrow. “You named your gun after your BT21 character?”

“Her memory lives on.”

“Jesus.” 

Hoseok grabbed two twin blades from the table and slipped them into the sheaths strapped on his back. A pistol sat on his hip. When he noticed Alyssa staring at him, he gave her a genuine smile. 

“Don’t worry, we do this all the time.”

“How often do these things show up here?”

“Often enough.” Taehyung answered. Apparently, their learning of the English language was advanced. Although broken, the boys had a pretty clear understanding.

Jimin and Namjoon grabbed their weapons of choice before Namjoon began shouting out commands. 

“Okay. Since Jungkook and Yoongi are out that eliminates some of our offense. We’ll need a different approach. Jimin, do feel up to patrolling East Wing?”

Jimin grunted something in Korean and even Alyssa could figure out that was a fat no.

Namjoon responded sharply. Soon the two were arguing loudly in Korean. Alyssa took this chance to sift through the weapons on the table. In the years since the war she had become quite skilled in the art of the blade and picked up a well loved katana, weighing it on her hand. Balanced. Barely. She also grabbed a pistol and stuck it in her back pocket. Hoseok handed her some extra ammo and she flashed him a smile. 

Namjoon and Jimin were still arguing and soon Taehyung and Hoseok joined in. No one seemed to agree with whatever new strategy Namjoon had come up with. Finally, Alyssa had enough.

“I’ll do it.” She said and the men continued arguing.  _ Okay, time for a different approach. _

“HEY, FUCKERS,” she screamed. The boys immediately silenced, all attention on her. “I’ll do it. I can patrol the East Wing or whatever the hell that is.” 

“Absolutely not.” Namjoon, as predicted, opposed anything that wasn’t his idea.

Alyssa crossed her arms. “And why the hell not?”

“It’s not safe.” 

“You were gonna force Jimin to do it. You got some sexist tendencies you want to unearth now?”

Namjoon opened his mouth to retort, thought better of it, and closed it again. Taehyung picked up the slack for him.

“It’s not that, it’s just, East Wing is one of the tougher wings. Got a lot of windows. Jungkook and Yoongi usually guard it together. It’s a two man job, and a hard one at that.”

“So? You have no idea my skill level but I’ve been taking care of myself for the past three years. I’m kind of a badass.”

Namjoon snorted. “Taking out Yoongi with a can of corn doesn’t make you a badass. But your point is mute, you’ve never even seen one of these things. You literally thought they were a myth twenty minutes ago,” Namjoon pointed out. 

_ Ah, well. He has a point there.  _

“Okay well, how about I go with Jimin?” 

Jimin murmured something in Korean that let Alyssa know exactly how bad of an idea he thought that was. Alyssa felt her rage fuel up despite her better judgement and she held out her katana menacingly as she approached him.

“Look, Jimin, do you wanna fight or something? Better yet, why don’t you whip out your cock right here and we can see if yours is bigger than mine because I’ve had  _ enough- _ ”

“OKAaaAY. That’s enough of  _ that.” _ Namjoon intercepted, grabbing her arm and steering her away from a startled Jimin. The other boys who looked like they we’re going to crack up. “I’m not doubting you  _ could  _ defend East Wing. If anything, you could scream at them until they run away.  _ But  _ for the purpose of this strategy, let’s brainstorm a bit. We’re down three. Jin is literally more useless than usual.”

“Not sure how that’s possible.” Taehyung muttered and Namjoon shot him a look. Hoseok gave him a high five. Jimin glowered. 

“The toxicity in this room is alarming.” Alyssa stated and Namjoon looked liked he really was contemplating just giving himself over to the sasaengs like some kind of human sacrificial lamb. 

“Look, everyone, please. Let’s try to settle down, we don’t have a lot of time. Hobi, you and I will take the North Side. We can easily patrol between that and West. Tae, I’m gonna need you to stay by Jin. Literally that’s it. Make sure no one enters that room. Which means,” He turned to Alyssa and Jimin and flicked his eyes up at the ceiling. “God, I’m going to regret this. But you two: take East Wing. You’ll patrol it and be backup to Tae just in case he gets overwhelmed.”

Everyone nodded their heads in agreement. Alyssa raised her hand. Namjoon glared at her.

“ _ What?” _

“I, for one, am totally down for this plan. Even though Jimin will probably slit my throat for the hell of it and hide my body in a closet. For the record, I also make no promises about not killing him myself if he causes me problems-”

Namjoon cleared his throat. “Is there a point to this speech?”

“Yeah, where the  _ fuck _ is East Wing? What are you, the Avatar? Why is everything named after the four fucking directions here.” 

“She’s got a point.” Taehyung piped in. “Why did we name everything after directions?”

“Where even is East, anyway? I’m pretty sure the sun  _ sets  _ on that side of the building.” Hoseok asked. 

Namjoon rubbed his temples. “We’re going to die.”

In the end, Alyssa and Jimin headed to the East Wing in utter silence. He glowered at her every once in a while and she tried desperately to ignore his existence. Except for the fact that his breathing was so incredibly loud and he sighed every few minutes, it was a fairly easy patrol. They had looped through the entire ‘wing’ (which turned out to be one straight away stretch of fucking hallway but whatever) twice now, waving to Taehyung each time they passed him as he cleaned Tata. By the time the third rove had started, they still hadn’t said a word to each other. Finally, Alyssa had had enough of Jimin’s stubborn silence. 

“Okay. Is there a particular reason you hate me, or is it just a general thing? Like, did I insult you in your past life or. . . . . ?”

No response.

“Great. And I can’t even tell if you just can’t understand me or if you’re just blatantly ignoring me.”

“I understand you.” He said, eyes glued to the path in front of them.

“Fan-fucking-tastic.” Alyssa muttered before allowing them to sink back into uncomfortable silence. 

A shatter rang out from across the floor and Alyssa heard distant shouting and some gunfire. Jimin tensed up beside her, pulling his double bladed staff closer to his small form. Alyssa unsheathed her katana, holding it ready. The gunfire was still fairly distant, but more sporadic now, as if the boys were putting down whatever was assaulting them. Everything was quiet in their wing. Too quiet. 

It didn’t last, though. A noise started about 50 feet behind them. A low hum comparable to that of a shitty AC unit mixed with the gurgling of a small, uncultured child. For the first time that day, Jimin met Alyssa’s eyes and jerked his head over his shoulder in case she was an actual idiot and couldn’t determine what direction the danger was in. The noise behind them grew stronger and the two turned, slowly.

Alyssa could barely comprehend the creature taking form before her. It started as a bulbous mass that slowly pulsated and grew until it took the form of what appeared to be a human girl. A ripped human girl with two heads and the body of John Cena, that is. Her form was liquidy and kept shifting as she tried to keep the shape. One head was at an awkward angle as if it had been broken in the past and healed unevenly. The other was just a bit  _ too _ large and pulsated grotesquely. 

“What the actual fuck.” Alyssa whispered.

“It’s a sasaeng.” Jimin responded, his voice barely registering. Chirps and clacks began to emit from the girl and Alyssa gripped her weapon tighter. 

“Yeah, I figured that part out.” 

The girl let out an inhuman shriek and lept towards them. They both jumped out of her way, rolling to the ground on either side of an old couch. 

“So, any insight on how to kill them?” Alyssa shouted as the girl swiveled her head around without turning her body, made eye contact with her and let out another shriek.

“Believe it or not, they die like most supernatural beings. Just behead her.” Jimin responded, advancing towards the creature. The creature charged him and he ducked, stabbing up with his staff into her side. She screamed and twisted to him, getting another jab from his blade, this time in her neck. “Although, that’s easier said than done. They’re fast little shits and surprisingly intelligent.” 

“Great.” Alyssa said sarcastically as she charged the monster, blade drawn. “Jimin, duck!”

Jimin turned to see Alyssa and recognizing her plan, ducked below the creatures arms as Alyssa swung the katana cleanly, successfully dislodging the creatures head from its body. The reaction was immediate and the creature fell to the ground in liquid chunks, dissipating quickly.

“Ugh, disgusting.” Alyssa spat, her blade was covered in a dark, viscous substance. She wiped it on a nearby curtain earning a scowl from Jimin. 

“Really? We have towels.”

She shrugged.

“HEY GUYS? I NEED SOME HELP!” A shout rang out from down the corridor. 

“Tae!” Jimin said before he broke into a dead run towards where Taehyung was keeping guard of Jin, Alyssa hot on his heels. They burst into the room Taehyung was occupying to find him facing off against two beefy sasaeng boys. He was firing Tata into the larger of the two boys while trying to dodge the assault of the other, screaming loudly. His left leg was bleeding profusely and he was trying not to put any weight on it. When he saw Alyssa and Jimin burst into the room he swore.

“Thank  _ fucking God,  _ I can hear some struggling inside the room, one of them must have broken in through Jin’s window but I can’t get these two fuckers down.”

“Shit!” Jimin shouted before jumping on the back of the smaller of the two sasaengs and choking him out with his spear. “Alyssa, a little help?”

She ran and slid into the legs of the sasaeng Jimin was holding and the creature slammed into the ground. Jimin made quick work of it’s head and once decapitated, it started to disperse. Alyssa got up and turned to help Taehyung when she heard Jimin curse under his breath. She turned to see the goo from the first monster slowly creeping and adding to the second sasaeng engaged with Taehyung.

“That’s new.” Jimin said, gripping his spear tighter. Taehyung swore and smashed Tata into the second creatures head, throwing it off balance but also himself. He slammed into the wall behind him, trying to regain his balance. Jimin leapt over the merging bodies and stood next to Taehyung, preparing to face off against the now larger monster to defend his injured friend.

“Alyssa, see if you can clear Jin’s door and get in there. He’s gonna need some help.” Taehyung shouted as the creature got back to its feet and turned to the boys with an inhuman howl. Alyssa began to frantically shove the furniture that blocked the entrance to Jin’s door. They hadn’t thought the creatures would come from  _ inside  _ the room and had barricaded his door in case Taehyung got taken out. 

The second creature was proving to be much harder to disable than the first. Taehyung had retreated a bit further back in the room and was firing relentlessly into it’s thick skull but the new goo was forming a kind of reinforced helmet around it’s vital parts. Jimin danced around the creature, twirling and stabbing with his spear trying to get a clear shot at the head but it was to no avail. 

Alyssa had finally gotten the door clear when she heard Taehyung shout and turned to see Jimin rising up into the air, the sasaengs fist tightening around his neck. He struggled weakly, his spear dropping to the ground with a weak clatter. Taehyung pulled a dagger from his jacket and began to run towards Jimin, dragging his hurt leg but Alyssa could tell he wouldn’t make it in time. 

Abandoning Jin’s door, Alyssa pulled out her katana and charged the monster holding Jimin. She slashed out at his arm, dislodging it from the body. It fell to the ground dissolving into glue and Jimin fell with it, hands clasping his throat as he coughed loudly.

“Thanks,” he muttered as Alyssa held out a hand, pulling him to his feet. 

The monster reformed and was turning back to them. Jimin scooped up his spear and began his fatal dance once again, drawing the monsters attention back to him. Alyssa waited for her opening before she charged in, slashing with her sword. The monster whipped its body around, catching Jimin and smashing him into the wall. His head collided with an end table with a sickening thud and he went slack. 

“Jimin!” Alyssa screamed as she struggled to stab the creature in the throat but her blade caught and the monster jerked it out of her hands, the momentum tossing her onto the ground. Bullets had begun firing again and she knew Tata was hard at work in Taehyung’s hands but with the reinforced slime helmet, the monster was impenetrable. 

The creature leaned down until it was face to face with Alyssa, who desperately tried to scoot her body across the floor away from the creature. It’s breath reeked and it screeched into her face, knowing she was trapped.

Before she could even comprehend what was happening an arrow shot from across the room and penetrated the creatures helmet. It collapsed onto the ground in a splash of black goo. Alyssa whipped her head towards the source of the arrow and found Jin covered in slime, leaning on the door frame of his bedroom, bow in hand.

“Rise and shine, bitch,” He said, panting heavily a huge smile on his face. 

Taehyung threw Tata on the ground and moved as quickly as he could to Jimin. Alyssa crawled over to him as well, gathering his head into her lap and feeling for a pulse, all anger from her initial meeting of him evaporated. His pulse was there, fluttering weakly but ever present and she let out a breath she hadn’t known she was holding. 

Taehyung put a hand on her shoulder and she turned to look up at him.

“He’s alive. Probably has a concussion. Is there a room we can move him into?”

Namjoon and Hoseok burst into the room frantically, taking in the scene. Hoseok ran to Jin and took his arm over his shoulder to get his weight off the door frame, leading him to the couch to sit. Namjoon ran over to where Alyssa sat cradling Jimin on the ground, Taehyung crouching over her shoulder.

“Is he- Is he. . . ?” Namjoon sputtered, staring at Jimin’s limp form.

“Alive.” Alyssa finished for him. “He hit his head really hard against the wall though. He’s out cold.”

Namjoon let out a relieved breath and ran his fingers through his long hair. A habit he seemed to exhibit whenever he felt particularly stressed. 

“Okay, Hoseok and I can get him into his bed. Alyssa, can you look at Tae’s leg? It’s bleeding like a bitch”

Alyssa turned to look at Taehyung behind her. Namjoon was right, it was basically spitting blood. He stood up and limped to a nearby chair, collapsing into it as his battle adrenaline began to wear off. Alyssa cut off some of the curtain and tied a tourniquet on his thigh to slow the bleeding before looking closely at it. 

The wound was deep and not clean. It was hard to get a bearing of just how bad it was because of all the blood. Taehyung grit his teeth as she peeled back the shattered cloth of his pants and sucked in her breath. 

“Fuck, Taehyung. What happened?” Jin said, leaning to look at the gash.

“Fuckin’ saseang got me with his claws. How bad is it, Alyssa?”

“God, I’m not qualified for this. It looks bad. Do you guys have clean water prepared and a towel?”

Jin motioned to an adjoining room. “The kitchen’s through there. There should be some clean water in the bins under the counter and fresh towels in one of the drawers.”

Being the only able bodied one Alyssa fetched the items and settled back down by Taehyung to begin cleaning the wound to hopefully see how bad it was. Taehyung clenched his fists and leaned back on the couch. Alyssa’s attempts were futile though. No matter how much she cleaned, the blood just continued to gush out. 

She didn’t hear Namjoon or Hoseok when they entered the room again and nearly jumped out of her skin when she felt Namjoon’s hand on her shoulder.

“How bad is it?”

“ I can’t tell. He’s bleeding like crazy and I can’t get it clean enough to check the extent of the damage. We have to get him to Monica.” 

Namjoon’s brow furrowed. “But, the horses. We scared them off.”

Alyssa sighed, pressing the bloody towel harder into Taehyung’s leg. “I know. Got a wheelbarrow?”

* * *

In the end, the boys didn’t have a wheelbarrow but they  _ did _ have a shopping cart. They placed Taehyung gently in it, having him press a fresh towel hard on his leg. The journey wasn’t terribly far and there was enough daylight left that it should be fairly simple providing they didn’t run into any rogue sasaengs. Alyssa went alone, Namjoon and Hoseok had to assess the damages and watch over the other two boys. No one could be spared to accompany her and Taehyung. Alyssa knew the terrain well though and took the katana with her after tucking Tata into Tae’s lap. He had lost a lot of blood by now and was dozing in and out of consciousness. She didn’t know how much longer he’d be of help. 

* * *

Monica spent most of the morning pulling herbs from the garden. She liked to gather as many as she could this time of year to dry and store for the winter months. You never knew what was going to come in handy. Plus, it was therapeutic. After being stuck in that fall out shelter for a few years the sun felt good on her skin and the fresh air was a blessing. 

Late afternoon, Madi emerged from the bunker and sauntered over to where Monica sat under an old oak, munchin’ on some berries. Madi tossed an axe on the ground and pulled out a sharpening stick before plopping next to the weapon and getting to work. The girls sat in silence for a minute, Madi aggressively pulling the stick to and fro on the edge of the blade. 

Monica was the first to break the silence, surprisingly, and held out a handful of berries to Madi.

“Berries?” She asked. Madi shook her head. 

“I don’t like anything that comes from nature besides meat.” 

Monica nodded. She knew this. 

“Are the boys awake?” 

“Yeah. Yoongi finished the magazines and Jacq is teaching him how to make pipe bombs.”

Monica cringed. “Should she be doing that in the bunker?”

“I mean, she’s in her lab.” Jacq’s lab was in a sect of the bunker furthest from their living quarters, just in case an accident ever occurred. But Monica wasn’t sure it wouldn’t still totally decimate their home if an accident  _ did  _ occur. “Not sure what Jungkook’s doing. But I told him he was welcome to come out here with us if he got bored.”

“Should we be allowing them to just like, walk around our home?”

Madi shrugged. “If they were going to kill us, wouldn’t they have done it while we slept?”

“Alyssa could be dead right now, for all we know. We could have let her walk right into a trap.” Monica said, tossing a few more berries into her mouth. 

“Nah. Namjoon wants to fuck her too bad for that to happen.”

Monica nearly choked on a berry and coughed several times to clear her throat. 

“What?” Madi asked. “You don’t see it?”

“I mean, I see it, but she would never let him. She’s the pickiest person I know.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right.”

Across the garden the girls watched Jungkook exit the bunker and look around for them, a hand draped across his brow to try and block out the sun. Seeing them, he waved and began to walk over.

“God damn, he’s fine.” Madi whispered and Monica snorted.

“Still got a bit of that college crush on him?”

“I mean, I don’t know him at all. Just that he’s beautiful and until 24 hours ago, unattainable.” 

Jungkook came within earshot and the girls quickly shut up before exchanging pleasantries. 

“Hey! What are you guys doing?”

“Sittin’” Monica stated. Jungkook looked taken aback. 

“Oh. . . .uh, yeah? Mind if I join?”

“Not at all,” Madi said as she resumed the sharpening of her axe. Jungkook eyed it warily. Madi, catching him looking raised an eyebrow. “What? Never seen a vintage Granfors Bruk hand crafted axe before?” 

“Can’t say I have.”

“Well. You’re missing out. This here-” she gently caressed the blade of the axe, showing Jungkook the gentle curves of her baby. “Is untempered 16th century steel. Made to cut through the thickest of skulls.”

Jungkook looked impressed. “And how did you come across it?”

“I stole it.”

Jungkook’s eyes bulged. “Come again?”

But, Madi never did get a chance to come again because it was at that moment that George Washington and Rosa Parks chose to make their way over the hill beyond the mall and galloped into the garden. Monica and Madi jumped to their feet and ran to grab the horses and calm them. White froth covered their flanks and they were breathing heavy. 

Monica snatched the piece of paper attached to George Washington’s bridle and read the note aloud:

To the Bailey Sisters:

I am at the boy’s hideout. I am currently unharmed.

Some sasaengs (evidently, they are real) have ambushed us.

If you don’t hear from me by morning, I have been killed.

Monica: Take care of the others. Also the horses.

Jacq: Try not to blow everything up and keep the creepy blood mage stuff to a min.

Madi: I have no words. You’ll follow me soon.

Farewell, my blood sisters and know that if I die, I die swingin’. 

“Well.” Madi said. “That’s that.”

Monica shot her a glare. “What do you mean: ‘that’s that’! We have to help her.”

“I agree.” Jungkook said. “Those are my brothers! We can’t just leave them out there.”

Monica nodded. That settled it then. “I need to tell Yoongi what’s happening though.”

“Of course.” Monica replied. “Let’s go to Jacq.”

* * *

“This is absolutely not good.” Jacq said after the girls had gotten her up to speed. Yoongi and her were elbows deep in a bucket of what looked to be black goo and were siphoning it into plastic water bottles. Jacq’s lab was a scene of organized chaos. Flasks and chemistry tools lay around the room. Scales and bubbling pots of strange substances emitted mysterious odors and Monica wrinkled her nose in disgust. 

After hearing the letter Jacq peeled off her gloves and wiped the goo from her shirt. Yoongi started to follow before she stopped him.

“What do you think you’re doing? You better keep scoopin’, pretty boy, because those cocktails aren’t going to fill themselves and if this letter is an omen for what’s to come, we’re going to need as many as we can get.”

“But I want to help my friends!”

“Not with that head wound you’re not.” Monica said as she walked over to Yoongi to inspect the bruise. It was a lot better today, but still look wicked. It was turning yellow on the edges and the immediate area of concern was green. “You have to sit this one out.”

“Honestly, I’m going to be useless anyway. Monica, how do you feel?” Jacq asked, rinsing her hands.

Monica, like Jacq, was not one for hand to hand combat. She had been trying her hand at the bow, and wasn’t terrible, but still much preferred her dagger if absolutely necessary or poison if she needed to eliminate someone gently. When it came to an all out battle, she was basically useless. 

“Uhhhhhhh. . . . “ She said. Luckily Madi spoke up.

“I can go. Jungkook, too. We can at least assess the situation and see if anything salvageable.”

“Salvageable?” Yoongi snorted. “You underestimate the skills of our guys. They’re fine. Your friend was probably just panicking because this is the first encounter you guys have had with sasaengs, right?”

“Alyssa doesn’t overreact. I mean, she does about stupid things like time and whether or not we should build an ark if it rains too much, but not about situations in which our lives are in danger. She’s quite a logical thinker.” Madi answered. “So, if she seems concerned, then we should be too. Jungkook, we need to arm you. What do you want?”

Jungkook eyed Madi’s axe longingly before answering. “Got a bat? I like the classic smashing tools.”

“A man after my own heart.” Madi said. “Follow me. I’ve stocked plenty in our arsenal.” 

Madi and Jungkook got him set up while Monica made them an emergency kit in case anything went wrong or someone was seriously hurt when they got there. Jacq and Yoongi continued making the bombs, Jacq showing Yoongi the ropes. He would be an expert soon at this rate. 

When the preparations were complete everyone stopped what they were doing to gather in the foyer. Outside, it had started to storm and the darkness cast ominous shadows across the yard. Rain slammed into the ground making visibility even slimmer. 

“Well.” Madi stated. “This is gonna suck. Do we have any umbrellas or. . . ?”

“You’re not going into battle with a fucking umbrella.” Jacq replied putting two of her bombs into Monica’s prepared battle pack. “Don’t shake your bag too much, it might set them off.”

“What constitutes too much shaking? Like this?” Madi shook the bag rapidly.

“YEAH-” Jacq grabbed her hand to stop her. Everyone else backed up a few steps, eyes wide. “-EXACTLY LIKE THAT! DON’T DO THAT!”

Madi held the bag out from her at arms length as if that would fucking help her if the cocktails decided to explode. 

“God Madi, it’s not a fucking can of coke.” Jacq said.

“Hey guys, what’s that?” Jungkook was squinting out the open door into the pouring rain. A strange shape was making its way towards them in the rain accompanied by a high pitched screeching. 

“Should I shoot it?” Madi asked, pulling out a shotgun.

“First of all, why is that your first instinct? No, don’t fucking  _ shoot it _ .” Jacq said, grabbing the gun from Madi and clutching it to her. “Second of all, where the fuck were you storing this?”

Madi shrugged. The strange object continued to amble closer. 

“Should I. . . shut the door?” Jungkook asked, gripping the heavy door. Monica brushed past him and squinted into the darkness.

“Is that. . . . .I think that’s someone pushing a shopping cart?” She said leaning out the open door.

“Oh thank God,” Madi said. “ Postmates is finally following through with my order. Better late than never.”

Much to Madi’s dismay, it was not her Postmates grocery delivery but, as the figure meandered closer, the shape proved to be a very drenched and exhausted Alyssa and a dark mass hunched over in the cart.

“Oh my God, Alyssa!” Monica ran out into the rain, Jungkook and Madi hot on her heels. The others stayed behind, holding the door open and peering out. 

When they reached Alyssa she was panting heavily, all of her weight supported by the cart. The mass in the cart was covered by Alyssa’s old army jacket and Madi lifted it to find a beautiful man passed out, a towel pressed into his still bleeding leg. 

“Taehyung!” Jungkook exclaimed, reaching for his friend. Madi immediately went to Alyssa to support her weight as she slumped over the cart, exhausted. 

“He’s hurt.” Alyssa sputtered. “Really bad. I tried to keep him talking but he passed out about an hour back and then the storm. . . Monica, he’s lost a lot of blood.”

“We got ‘em.” Monica said, grabbing the cart and shoving it towards the open door of the base. Madi took one of Alyssa’s arms over her shoulders to support her weight. Jungkook grabbed the other arm and the two half dragged, half carried Alyssa into the base. 

Madi immediately got Alyssa into her room and changed into clean, dry clothes. She made her some tea and sat a vigil at her bed as the older girl fell into a restless sleep. Alyssa was physically exhausted but otherwise seemed unharmed. Until she woke, they would have no clue as to what had happened. Fever was the ultimate concern for Alyssa and since they didn’t have a lot of medical treatments Madi placed a warm towel on her head, hoping for the best. 

Taehyung was whisked away by Monica and Jungkook into the medical bay. Jacq and Yoongi kept crowding her until she ultimately shoved them out to make some food, choosing Jungkook once again as her sick bay helper. He was the most willing to take commands and never questioned her methods, which right now, were stripping Taehyung out of his soaked, bloody clothes and getting him into some dry ones. 

Inspecting the wound, Monica sucked in her breath. Her medical training was limited, she wasn’t a doctor, after all. She just read a lot about injuries and diseases as a kid and happened to have medical parents. 

“Fuck, Jungkook. This looks bad.” 

Jungkook leaned over her shoulder. He was holding a light for Monica and she felt him inhale, sharply. 

“I take it that the fact that is hasn’t clotted is a bad thing, right?” 

Monica couldn’t stop the laugh that broke out from her. The stress of holding this young man’s life in her extremely ill prepared hands must be making her emotions run wild.

“Uh, yeah. That’s not good. Let’s clean it and then see if we can sew it up and hope for the best. I have no way of telling if his artery is punctured but I feel like he’d be bleeding a lot more if that was the case. He probably wouldn’t even be alive, having bled out a while ago. So let’s go with the best case scenario that it’s just a deep cut.”

Jungkook nodded and Monica could see how worried he was. One of his best friends was passed out in a table bleeding out of a nasty gash in his leg. If it was one of  _ her  _ friends, she’d be worried sick. Probably unable to function properly. They got to work cleaning and sewing the wound and soon Taehyung lay under a thick comforter, asleep. The wound had finally stopped bleeding and the gauze it was wrapped in was keeping any little seepages at bay. Exhausted, the two medics went out to a meal that Yoongi and Jacq had prepared. About halfway through, Madi came out with an exhausted Alyssa leaning on her form. 

The group gathered around the table immediately stood up but Alyssa waved them back down and slumped into a chair, Madi beside her. No one spoke for a minute.

“What is this, fried rice?” Alyssa finally broke the silence. Jacq nodded. “Give me some of that shit.” Jacq gave her a bowl, drizzled with sriracha. 

Alyssa took a few bites before she began to relate the events of the evening to the group. They sat around, the girls mouths agape at the idea of the sasaengs ( in all their separate travels, they only had to fight other survivors for resources, never the legendary monsters) and the boys surprised at the sheer audacity and premeditated thought the creatures had put into the attack.

“You said there was about ten of them?” Yoongi asked when Alyssa had finished her story. 

Alyssa nodded. “Possibly more? I have no clue how many Hoseok and Namjoon put down.” 

“That’s crazy! We’ve never encountered more than five. And they’ve never shown the brain capacity to purposefully attack one of the weak. It’s usually just a random assault. And the combining action you saw? That’s unheard of.”

“Well, that’s horrifying.” Madi stated. “It seems like they’re definitely getting smarter.”

“Evolving.” Jungkook whispered. “They’re evolving.” 

The group was silent for a minute. 

“Well.” Jacq said standing and grabbing some empty plates. “There’s nothing we can do right this second. Let’s get some sleep and tomorrow, we’ll reconnect with the others and determine a course of action.” 

The others agreed and slowly everyone dissolved into their personal rooms. Jungkook choosing to camp out in Taeyhung’s room in case he woke up in a panic.

At roughly 3am though, a pounding on the front door drew the sleepy residents from their rooms. Alyssa, recuperated enough to take charge again swung open the front door to see a drenched Namjoon standing on the lawn, a weak Jin draped across his shoulders. Hoseok and a dazed Jimin stood behind him, dragging suitcases filled with god knows what.

Seeing Alyssa, Namjoon offered a weak smile.

“Hello. It appears we’ve been compromised.”

  
  



	4. Chapter 4

That night when the remainder of the group of boys formerly known as BTS arrived at the doorstep, the bunker was a flurry of activity as Namjoon explained that the sasaengs had come back to their apartment in full force and all they could do was flee and hope they could outrun them. The girls quickly organized shifts to watch the borders of the monument all evening and luckily, nothing breached Jacq’s defenses.

The following morning brought with it a new era for both groups. An era that included attempts at coexistence and adjustment for both parties. 

The first priority was to figure out exactly where their new boundaries lie. It was 9am and the group sat in the living room tentatively, ready to start sorting things out. Monica passed around cups of coffee to those who drank it and snacks in case anyone had an appetite. No one did. 

“So,” Alyssa started when the silence drew on for much longer than needed. “Yesterday was a disaster.”

“That’s an understatement,” Jin replied. “How can I be world wide handsome if there’s no fucking world left?” 

“You’re really gonna keep on milking that, aren’t you?” Namjoon said, sipping on his coffee.

“Hey, as long as there is some semblance of a world, there must be one handsome to rule them all.”

“For the record, I’m just going to remind everyone that  _ I  _ was the visual of the group,” Taehyung piped in from where he sat on an old loveseat. “Not that I really cared but figured I’d put that out there.” 

“Don’t worry,” Hoseok put a hand on Taehyung’s shoulder. “You’ll always be my number one visual.” 

The boys fistbumped as Madi whispered ‘gaaaay’ into Alyssa’s ear. 

“Do you think there  _ is _ a world out there?” Jimin whispered so quietly that he wasn’t sure if anyone heard him. “Like, outside of the United States?” 

The room abruptly fell into silence. 

“Probably not,” Yoongi replied quietly.

No one spoke for a few moments. 

Namjoon broke the tension by clapping his hands. “Okay, well let’s not get philosophical  _ just _ yet. We’ll save that for a bottle of whiskey and the late night hour. First, we need to figure out what’s going to happen from here.”

Alyssa looked to her girls, spread out around the room. “Well, we actually discussed this a bit last night and were thinking that you could all stay here - if you wanted.”

The boys seemed to take this news in a variety of ways. Some looked surprised, others not at all, and Jimin? Jimin looked pissed. 

“Thanks, but no thanks,” He declared. “We won’t be staying here. We don’t know you and frankly, we’re better on our own.”

“Are we?” Hoseok asked.

“You know us well enough to understand that we’re not mass murderers with massive egos. Which is as good as you’re gonna get in the current state of affairs,” Madi shot back. 

It was Jungkook who spoke next. “Well, Jimin, I wouldn’t say that’s necessarily true. You have just met them, yes, but I’ve been here for a few days and I can vouch for their safety,” He glanced at Madi. “Notice I didn’t say sanity.” She winked at him.

“Also, they have like, a lot of food and stuff here,” Jin said. “So I’m kind of in?”

“You just got here,” Yoongi said.

“Yes, and I can already tell that they have a fully stocked kitchen which is more than I could say for some of the winter months in  _ our  _ home.”

Jimin threw up his hands. “We can’t just go around _ trusting _ random people. You all know what happened last time we-” He stopped himself, remembering his audience. “Look, maybe we just need to discuss it first.”

“Of course,” Alyssa said. “We can offer you each personal rooms, we have a shit ton of space. There’s safety in numbers and I think we should be grateful that we  _ did _ manage to find two groups of people that aren’t complete psychos. But, I will point out, we aren’t expecting you guys to live here for free. You’d have to find some ways to help out.”

“I’d say that’s fair,” Namjoon answered. “We’ll help in whatever way we can.”

“That’s all fine but I do want to point out that  _ I  _ have absolutely no marketable skills,” Jin announced. 

“Oh, don’t worry, Jin. We know.” Taehyung quipped. “Being beautiful doesn’t really help much in the apocalypse.” 

Jin shrugged because he couldn’t disagree. He was just as beautiful as he was useless. 

“I, for one, would like to continue to make bombs.” Yoongi stated from where he sat next to Jacq who responded with an “ayeeeee” and gave him a fist bump. 

“That sounds dope. I totally volunteer to do that, too.” chirped Hoseok.

“Uh, no offense Hobi, but I don’t want you anywhere  _ near  _ the bombs,” Jungkook replied. “No one who’s that happy all the time should be  _ anywhere  _ near explosives. We have no clue when you’ll finally crack.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I cried that one time!”

“I find your extreme positivity unsettling. Especially in the apocalypse.”

“Well, I find  _ your-” _

“ _ Regardless _ , we should all come to a consensus about what we want to do before we start picking jobs,” Namjoon interrupted. “Guys, hands up if you want to stay.”

Besides Jimin, the whole bands hands shot into the air. They were eager at having such a cool hideout and the idea of meeting new people had them excited. Jimin, seeing the excitement in his brothers finally relented.

“Fine, fine,” he said shaking his head. “I’ll stay.  _ I guess  _ Alyssa’s not that bad-”

“Gee, thanks,” She muttered.

“ - But, to be clear, I don’t trust any of you fuckers and I think it’s an awful idea.”

“Great!” Namjoon declared. “It’s settled, then. We’re staying.” 

* * *

Life in the bunker changed drastically after that. The boys spent the rest of the day selecting rooms and moving in what little belongings the last group managed to bring with them from the apartment. 

“Did you get my saxophone?” Taehyung shouted as he brought in some plants Monica had showed them they could pot and use in their rooms.

“Why the fuck would we have grabbed your saxaphone?” Namjoon replied.

“To listen to my sweet jams.”

“Tae, we were  _ literally _ being chased by sasaengs.”

“That sounds like  _ your  _ problem.”

* * *

Monica’s first task was to cut their hair, as all the men looked like they had been castaway on an island for years.

“God,” she muttered as she lifted Yoongi’s uneven long ass mane to determine where to start. She had already declared Jungkook’s man bun a lost cause and sliced that bitch right off, much to his dismay. He thought he looked like a sexy Asian Chris Hemsworth. “Have you guys been cutting each other’s hair in the  _ dark? _ I don’t even understand how it could be this bad.” 

“I don’t know. We just kind of go for it, y’know?”

“No, Yoongi, I  _ don’t  _ know. What do you mean  _ ‘go for it’ _ ?”

“Like, if no one’s around, I just kind of take the scissors and reach back there and . . . snip snip, y’know? It’s not like I  _ measure _ or use a mirror or anything  _ fancy _ .”

Monica shrieked. 

* * *

A few weeks passed and the men slowly began to heal from their injuries. Taehyung still walked with a limp and Jimin sometimes had to take a beat when he stood up too fast to regain his balance, but they were improving. They slowly began to adjust to the life the girls had made and from there they fell into place.

“What are you doing?” Jungkook inquired late one afternoon. He had been wandering the grounds aimlessly, tired of doing nothing while they settled into life and found Madi in the small sparring field the girls kept, vigorously slashing away at an old oak tree. He had been meaning to ask the girls about the field because he had only ever seen Alyssa and Madi training in it and was curious if it was open to all. 

She paused when she saw him and lowered her weapon, this time a small rapier instead of her signature axe, and grabbed a water bottle from the ground to take a swig.

“Practicing. I usually spar with Alyssa but she’s helping Monica with a run to the pharmacy to restock some supplies.”

“Ah, well, judging by the slashes on that poor tree, I’d say you’re winning.” 

“Of course. Although, it’s not much competition. How well do you fence?” 

Jungkook let out a sheepish grin and rubbed the back of his neck. “Uh, well. . . I’ve never fenced but you could say I’m  _ quite _ the master of the baseball bat.”

“A baseball bat doesn’t count as a weapon.”

“It does if it has nails in it.”

Madi scoffed. “Yeah,  _ okay. _ But this-” she ran a finger along the edge of her blade and then gave it a twirl. “-is a  _ real  _ weapon. It acts like an extension of your arm, responding to your every move and-” she lashed out the weapon, stopping it inches from Jungkook’s heart. He exhaled sharply “-it’s  _ fast. _ Way faster than a bat.” 

Jungkook grabbed the tip of the blade and lowered it from his body before taking a step closer to Madi. He wasn’t sure what it was, but something about the psycho blonde girl in the group intrigued him. He had never met someone who was quite so . . . unpredictable. 

“Okay, buuut how good is it at  _ smashing? _ ”

“Ha. Ha. Calm down, Nigel Thornberry. Here-” She grabbed another rapier from the rack and tossed it to Jungkook who caught it gracefully. “- why don’t you give it a try?” 

Madi wasn’t a great teacher and in a few steps she had Jungkook disarmed and on the ground but regardless he found himself having more fun than he had in months.. Something about her was so carefree and non judgemental that he almost didn’t mind that she beat the literal shit out of him time and time again. By the end of their session he was bruised, battered, and ready for more. Madi, it seemed, had had enough.

“Alright, bunny boy, that’s enough for me. But, see you here bright and early tomorrow morning to start working with our recruits?”

“Excuse me? Recruits? Work?” Jungkook said as he brushed the dirt off his pants. 

“Well, with Alyssa being tied up with managing of the group and all that nonsense, I’ve lost my battle partner and with all the sasaeng sightings nearby, we need to make sure that everyone is up to speed on basic defense so. . . . I was hoping you’d help me with the trainings? We can work on your other skills besides smashing as well. You clearly need all the help you can get.” 

Jungkook broke into a smile. 

“I’d love that.” 

* * *

Monica wanted nothing more than for everyone to get the  _ fuck _ out of her kitchen. Alyssa and her had returned from the supply run about an hour ago and Alyssa had promptly fucked off to do God  _ knows _ what and left Monica to plow through her daily chores, which, would normally be quite pleasant except for the fact that the boys were still learning their place and were being fucking annoying. Namjoon, Hoseok, and Taehyung had been sent to ‘assist’ her when they bothered Jacq and Yoongi too much in the lab and well, here we are. 

Currently, she was listening to Taehyung and Hoseok argue about who was better at burping the alphabet and even if you were a BTS Stan pre war, this battle was enough to knock any attraction to the boys right out of you. 

“I . . . . . . J. . . . . . . KAAAAYYY” Taehyung belched before gagging, almost vomiting on the kitchen floor. “Ah,  _ fuck.  _ I was doing really well that time.”

“Please. I can do  _ way  _ better than that.” Hoseok declared and chugged some of Jacq’s Dr. Pepper stash as he prepped his gut.

“Do you guys  _ really  _ have to do this in here?” Monica asked before he got to chance to unleash his gassy buildup. 

Taehyung looked at her. “Yeah, we’re helping you in the kitchen.” 

“I think-” Namjoon said from where he sat at the dining table reading a recipe book. “What Monica’s trying to say is ‘stop.’” He looked up and glared at the boys. “Because you’re being fucking annoying.” 

Hoseok put down the can of Dr. Pepper. “Fine. How can we help, Monica?”

She had absolutely no idea. Usually she did these chores alone and had no clue how to delegate. She didn’t think she’d be babysitting three grown ass adults today. “Uh. . . . god I don’t know? Do any of you guys have an affinity for cooking?”

The boys looked at each other.

“No. . .” Taehyung said.

“I can cook ramen?” replied Hoseok. 

“Once, I set our apartment kitchen on fire?” Namjoon declared.

Monica sighed. It was going to be a long day. 

“So what you’re telling me, is that you guys have survived  _ this  _ long and none of you can cook?”

“Jin can cook,” Taehyung stated and Monica wheeled on him.

“Well, why the  _ fuck  _ have you been sitting on  _ that  _ information? Where is world wide handsome?” 

* * *

World wide handsome was, in fact, having a world wide good time. Jin was currently sprawled out in one of the many bath accommodations in the complex butt ass naked, comforted in a blanket of steam and soaking in one of the old bathtubs. He had broken into Madi’s antique Lush product stash and was enjoying a luxurious bath bomb, sheet mask on his face, and not a care in the world.

That is, until Monica burst into the bathroom without knocking and stormed over to him. He was glad, for her benefit, that the bubbles were thick enough that  _ everything  _ was covered. He was proud of his accomplished  _ assets  _ but didn’t want to startle her. Yet. 

“Jin.”

He looked over at her, keeping his head reclined on the bathtub edge.

“Monica.” 

“Three of your boys have infiltrated my kitchen and won’t leave.”

A moment.

“And?”

“ _ And  _ I’ve just been informed that you know how to cook. I’d like you to become my cooking associate so I can get them the  _ fuck  _ out of my space.” 

A beat.

“What’s in it for me?”

“What the  _ fuck  _ do you mean, ‘what’s in it for you?’. What’s in it for you is that you actually have a sense of purpose in this world and can contribute to this fuckin’ cult we’ve made.” 

Jin stared at the ceiling for a minute. He had to admit, being beautiful and useless was making him bored. And when he was bored, he didn’t sleep well and then he got bags under his eyes that took weeks to tone down. 

“I’m naked.”

“I was trying not to notice.” 

At that, Jin leaned forward in the tepid water and cracked a flawless smile at Monica who visibly cringed. “Does my nudeness make you uncomfortable?”

“Well. . . uh. . it’s not just  _ your  _ nudeness. Nudeness in general makes me uncomfortable,” she stammered. He let out a laugh before he made moves to start standing up. Nudeness certainly didn’t make  _ him  _ uncomfortable. 

“What are you do- OH MY GOD, JIN!” Monica spun around to face the door she had come in before as Jin fully stood up in the bath. “What is  _ wrong  _ with you?!”

“Can you hand me a towel?” 

“What- NO! NO I CAN’T HAND YOU A TOWEL. IT’S RIGHT BESIDE YOU AND YOU’RE NAKED AND I DON’T WANT TO TURN AROUND.”

“If you get my towel I’ll help you cook.”

“I - AHHH!” She screamed. A beat passed as she struggled to regain her composure. Jin found her awkwardness adorable and chuckled softly

“Monica. I’m getting cold.” 

“If I. . . if I get the towel, you’ll really help me cook? And get your friends out of my space?”

“Cross my heart.” 

She moaned. “Can you at least  _ turn around _ ?”

“No. You came into  _ my  _ bathroom without knocking, I might add, and just started demanding things. Why should I cover up? I’m not the one who’s uncomfortable.”

She slowly turned around, her face beet red and, being extremely careful to keep her eyes glued to his, she slowly moved across the room towards the towel. Once there she snatched it and pelted it at him before whipping back around to face the door. He burst out laughing.

“Wow, I’ve never seen such well maintained eye contact.” 

“I’m a master at avoiding direct eye contact with people’s genitals.” 

“A woman of many talents,” He began to dry himself and wrapped the towel around his waist. Monica walked towards the door.

“So. . . . when can you start?”

“Uhh. . . well, today doesn’t really work for me. I have to leave this on my face for at least another three hours and tomorrow is leg day. Not sure about the day after-”

“Jin. I endured your naked body for this. Cut me some slack.”

“No one  _ endures  _ my naked body.”

“Can you just come get your idiots out of my kitchen, please?” And with that she stormed out of the bathroom and down the hall before he could respond.

“They’re not  _ my  _ idiots,” he muttered as he left the bathroom in search of some fresh clothes.

* * *

Jacq managed to dodge the canister of exploding black fluid seconds before it would have hit her in the face. Frustrated, she slammed her fists onto the table.

“I don’t  _ get it!  _ Why is the formula suddenly exploding? We haven’t changed anything!” 

Across the lab from her, Yoongi looked up and removed his safety goggles. 

“Hmm. . . . maybe the chemicals Madi snagged from that biohazard lab are stronger than what were used to?”

“I guess? We could try adjusting the ratio. . . . “ Jacq quickly got back to work measuring the chemicals to try and create a less severe reaction. A sharp pain behind her eyes though caused her to double over, almost dropping a beaker of explosive fluid and she let out a groan. Yoongi was across the lab in an instant and somehow managed to catch her before she fell.

“Jacq! Jacq, are you okay? Is it your head again?!”

Ever since the boys had come to stay in the compound, Jacq had been experiencing extreme headaches. She assumed it must be somehow related to her blood magic powers but had no clue as to what was going on. One doesn’t just  _ understand _ blood magic. All she knew was they seemed to get worse whenever-

“Hey, guys.” Taehyung announced as he slammed open the door of the lab and entered the room, Hoseok hot on his heels. “What the fuck?” he stated, seeing Jacq on the ground.

“Hello to you, too,” she muttered and Yoongi chuckled from where he sat behind her. 

“Jacq, are you okay?” Hoseok said darting across the room.

Jacq groaned as she pulled herself back to her feet, headache slowly subsiding. She brushed off Yoongi’s hand and Hoseok’s worried glance as she rubbed her temples trying to get rid of any remnants of the sharp pain. 

“I’m fine, I’m fine. I don’t know what’s going on with me. I just get these really awful headaches occasionally.”

“I know what you mean, I get those all the time.” Taehyung said nonchalantly as he leaned down to inspect a pot of boiling ooze.

“ _ Oh? _ ” Jacq asked.

“I wouldn’t get too close to that, Tae. They keep exploding.” Yoongi said and Taehyung immediately took a huge step back, eyes wide. 

“Wait, what do you mean you get headaches? What do they feel like?” Jacq asked.

“Hm.. . . “ Taehyung paced around the lab, careful to avoid any bubbling pots of ooze. “They’re like a piercing sharp pain right behind my eyes for like ten, maybe fifteen seconds? Not long term or anything but severe enough to make me want to lie down.”

“Yeah, he’s been getting them for a few months now,” Hoseok chimed in. “When was the first one, June-ish?”

“Yeah, that sounds about right.”

_ Huh, _ Jacq thought.  _ That sounds a lot like my symptoms. And June? Wasn’t that the month when the girls found me? Interesting. . .  _

“Eh, I mean whatever. I usually just take some Advil and masturbate or something to relieve the pressure,” Taehyung replied. 

“Ew,” Jacq said and any pensive thoughts immediately fled her mind. She couldn’t possibly have some weird blood magic connection to this pervert. Although, she was curious if masturbating would make her headaches better. She could ask Alyssa or maybe Madi. Those girls were frequent participants in the masturbation arts. 

Hoseok was wandering around the lab aimlessly when he bumped a glass of water off a table and it shattered on the ground. “ _ Shit!  _ I’m so sorry!” He hurriedly leaned down to get the glass but Yoongi brushed him off.

“Don’t touch that, you idiot. It’s sharp. Why are you two even here, anyway? Didn’t we send you to the kitchen precisely because you were getting in the way?”

“Everywhere we go we seem to be getting in the way!” Taehyung snapped back, bringing over a paper towel to mop up the spill. 

“I just want to make bombs,” Hoseok said sadly. 

Jacq sighed. “Have you guys tried looking for things to do outside? The barn almost always has work that needs to be done and we should all seriously talk about implementing a permanent patrol system.” With these headaches she wasn’t positive how secure her forcefield borders were anymore. It couldn’t hurt to have the extra security. “Where’s Jimin anyway? I haven’t seen him all day.”

Hoseok shrugged. “I have no clue. Sulking, probably.” 

“God, is he still upset that you guys decided to stay?”

“The last time we got close to another group, Jimin lost someone he loved. That’s why he’s so wary. Give him time and he’ll open up.” Yoongi replied as he swept up the broken glass. 

“I get it. That sucks though, I feel bad for him.”

“Don’t tell him that. He hates being pitied,” replied Hoseok. “I think I  _ am _ going to go check out the stable though. See what’s going on up there since you guys are holding out on the bombs. Tae?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m coming.”

The two of them left Jacq and Yoongi to their work. It didn’t take long though for Jacq to fall back into pace with Yoongi and her thoughts about blood magic. 

* * *

The library was Alyssa’s favorite part of the complex. It was an extension of the National library and therefore one of the only places with windows in the whole complex. The natural light made Alyssa feel at ease. She spent most of her free time here researching new systems to implement in their farming and living scenarios and looking at maps, trying to plot where she thought they could go if things here suddenly turned for the worse. And turning they were. Sasaeng groups had been sighted getting closer and closer and she knew they were living on borrowed time. 

They could attack any day now. 

They could attack any day now and no one was ready.

In the group they had five, maybe six, able bodied fighters. The rest were either injured or had little to no battle experience. That could be addressed, but they needed time and time was not on their side. With Jacq’s illness or whatever the fuck was going on there, their borders were virtually unprotected. They would need to to come up with some kind of patrol to offset that but with so little people. . . 

Not to mention the less dire problems like the approaching winter. Jacq kept saying it was going to be bad so Monica was actively trying to dry and store as much food as possible but with eleven people? And seven of them being active men that ate double their body weight per day? That was a problem in and of itself. 

Then you had to think about the animals, the weather, other survivors, possible illness- Alyssa groaned. This was all too much. 

“Hello? Is anyone in here?” a voice called out into the library. Alyssa froze where she sat on a vintage couch skimming the pages of ‘World War Z’. She had been looking through the ‘Art of War’ earlier for ideas on strategies but it kept stressing her out so she switched to some lighter reading. It wasn’t helping her nerves. 

“Depends on who’s asking!” She shouted back into the void of the massive library. She heard clunking as someone made their way up the spiral staircase to her preferred lounge and rounded the corner. Lo and behold, it was the mighty Namjoon. She presumed he was here to annoy the shit out of her as usual.

“Yes?” She asked closing her book, careful to keep her page marked. 

“This place is amazing!” He spun around gesturing to the high ceilings and the millions of books.

“Yeah, it’s my secret hideout.”

“Ah, I didn’t mean to intrude. It’s just, I love to read.”

“I know.”

“Oh. . . right.” He said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I forget you guys were technically ARMY before the end. Our hobbies and shit were used as major selling points for the company.”

“Yeah, it’s fine. If anything, knowing you liked to read definitely made me more inclined towards you.”

Namjoon grinned. “Oh my god Alyssa, are you saying I’m your bias?”

She gave him the side eye. “Don’t make me vomit, Namjoon.” 

That made him laugh and taking her conversation as an invitation, he sat on the couch across the coffee table from her. 

“What are you reading?”

She showed him the cover. “World War Z. I read it a few times before the war. It was always an enjoyable, quick read. Now, it serves as a reminder that people always imagined the apocalypse would be much worse.” 

“Uh, have you seen the world? It’s pretty awful.”

“Yeah but at least the dead aren’t hunting us down. That’s always a pro.”

“But the sasaengs are?”

“Eh. You win some you lose some, I guess.” 

He chuckled softly and reached for one of the books she had stacked on the table.

“The Care and Keeping of Exotic Fruit Plants?” He read the cover out loud and shot her a questioning look. “Why?”

“Monica wants to grow some pineapples.”

“In Virginia?”

Alyssa shrugged. “I just search through agriculture books to see if maybe there’s a solution to maintaining crops throughout the winter.” She motioned to the piles around the coffee table. “That stacks for battle strategies and that one there is maps.” 

“Well read. And you’re reading all of this why exactly?”

“You never know when things are going to take a turn for the worse. I want to be prepared.”

“I get that but honestly, these books are extremely outdated.”

“Hate to break it to you, Joon, but the Internet isn’t exactly accessible nowadays. There’s always some information in these books that’s timeless.”

Namjoon started laughing and shook his head. 

“What? What are you laughing about?!”

“You called me ‘Joon’.”

“Yeah, and what of it? Your friends call you that all the time.” 

“I guess. It's just weird hearing you say it.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t be doing  _ that _ again.” 

Namjoon snickered. “But seriously, Alyssa, this is nuts. How are you going to sort through all this shit?”

She shrugged. “It’s not that bad. I enjoy being up here and the topics are interesting.”

He gave her a look as if to say he didn’t believe her. “No one thinks ancient botanical practices are interesting.”

“Clearly you haven’t investigated slash and burn farming.”

“Are you serious?”

“One of my favorites.”

“Of _ course  _ it is.” 

When she didn’t immediately respond, he spoke again. “Do you want help?”

“Not really.”

“Okay, well I wasn’t really asking considering you’re making decisions for the group and since I’m the leader -”

“Let’s not get overambitious.  _ Were  _ the leader. As in past tense. You’re not in your boy band bubble anymore.”

“Oh, please. You think those dynamics died down? Name one other person who leads that team more than me?”

“I’d say they’re all more like agents of self contained chaos. No one can lead them.”

“Precisely. I merely manipulate them into taking basic instruction. How do you think we’ve survived so long?”

“Sheer luck”

“Har, har. _ As _ I was saying, since  _ I’m _ the self appointed leader of my boys, I want to be involved in these decisions. Plus, I don’t really fit in anywhere else here so this seems like the only logical choice.”

“Ah, the truth comes out.”

“Come on, Alyssa. I’ll bring you snacks.” 

Alyssa narrowed her eyes at him. He wasn’t  _ completely  _ unbearable she supposed. And she  _ did  _ need help sorting through all this fucking material. Some of it was  _ literally _ in different languages and since she took French in highschool like an  _ idiot _ and didn’t retain  _ any  _ of the language, she was useless. I mean, fuck, there probably wasn’t a language that Namjoon  _ didn’t  _ know at least a little of.

“ _ Fine,”  _ she relented. _ “ _ I  _ guess  _ you can help.”

* * *

For the third time that day, Jungkook found himself flat on his ass, on the ground, staring up at Madi who crouched over him, axe in hand. The cool metal of the blade kissed his jugular softly and he tried not to move for fear of cutting himself. 

“You keep dropping your guard on your left.” 

Jungkook groaned and shoved her off gently as he stood up, brushing the dirt off his worn pants. They had been practicing this drill all morning and try as he could, he couldn’t get the hang of it. “I can’t  _ help it.  _ I’m right handed. I’m naturally weaker on that side.”

“I’m right handed too and I don’t seem to have a problem.” 

Jungkook scoffed. “Yeah, well, you’re some kind of warrior demon or something. You don’t seem to have  _ any  _ weaknesses.” 

“Damn straight,” Madi cackled. She did, in fact, have weaknesses. Just not in battle terms. 

“UGHhh!” Jungkook whined. “I am never gonna get this drill down.”

“Not with that attitude. You just have to practice more.”

He tilted his head at her and let out a pout.

“Uh, uh. None of that. There’s no pouting in warfare.” 

“Madi, we’ve been at this all morning. Haven’t I at least earned a snack break?”

“Sasaengs don’t break for snacks.”

“Sasaengs are literal monsters. Literal monsters who have never known the sweet, salty taste of popcorn. ” 

Madi’s face scrunched up and she made a disgusted noise. “Ew, gross. I hate popcorn.”

Jungkook looked taken aback. “How the fuck do you hate popcorn?! It’s a classic American snack!”

“It just smells disgusting to me.”

“You aren’t human. But you’re missing the point. The important part is that  _ I’m starving  _ and because of that I can’t focus on my blocking.”

“Yeah, I’m sure  _ that’s  _ the reason you suck.” Madi retorted but regardless, she threw up her hands and relented. “ _ Fine.  _ But when you get cornered by a Sasaeng that comes at you from the left and you can’t defend yourself, I hope you remember that you sacrificed your life for some disgusting ass movie theater butter popped corn.” 

“It’s worth the risk.”

“You’re a baby.” 

* * *

Monica had spent the morning meticulously cleaning the old kitchen in the base. The utilities were ancient and everything looked like it was falling apart and with nothing to exchange the parts with, the only thing that made it look remotely habitable was a good deep clean every few weeks. Usually Alyssa or Jacq helped her scrub away the grime but both girls were indisposed with more demanding projects today, leaving Monica alone to do the scrubbing. 

She dumped the last bucket of dirty water and collapsed against the counter of the kitchen, letting out a huge breath. Finished. Finally finished.

As if called by Satan himself, Jin chose this moment of all moments to storm into the kitchen with boots caked in mud to slam down an oozing muddy bag of carrots onto the counter. 

“Monica, I don’t understand why  _ I  _ had to go outside to get the produce today and  _ you  _ got to relax here. The rain totally messed up my hair. Do you  _ know  _ how long it takes me to get it to look gently tousled?” 

Monica had never wanted to kill someone more.

“Jin . . . why the FUCK DID YOU NOT TAKE OFF YOUR SHOES IN THE ENTRY WAY?”

He looked a bit taken aback by the tone in her voice. “Excuse me, there’s no need to yell.” 

“I just spent the last two hours  _ cleaning  _ this shit hole and you just  _ waltz  _ in here and. . . ..AND-”

“Oh, please, Monica, like it was  _ hard- _ ”

“Ah, sweet, sweet relief.” Jungkook said as he and Madi burst into the kitchen in search of snacks. Jin pointed to the dirt that the two warriors tracked into the kitchen and Monica fumed, silently. 

“Hey, Mon, where are those snacks Alyssa and I got from that busted Trader Joes?” 

“On the top shelf of the cupboard,” Jin replied for her. 

“Oooo, Monica did you bake a pie?” Jungkook found an apple pie Monica had put over the oven to cool while she was cleaning and immediately reached for it. 

“If you so much as  _ touch  _ that apple pie, Jeon, I will slice you open like a Christmas pig,” Monica threatened and Jungkook released the pie and held both hands up. Everyone froze and looked at Monica. It was unusual for her to make such an outburst. 

“Woa, Monica, I’m sensing some hostility,” Jin cracked a grin.

“Really, Jin?  _ Are you?” _

“Monica, what’s up?” Madi asked approaching her friend.

“What’s up? What’s up is that I spent two hours cleaning this hellhole and Jin comes in with those muddy ass boots followed shortly by you two and now I have to start over. Jungkook- I SWEAR TO GOD!” Monica snatched a butter knife and brandished it towards Jungkook who was making a swipe at the pie once again but managed to dodge Monica’s thrust at the last second. 

“For future reference, Monica, if you  _ really  _ want to get him, attack him on his left side. He’ll never see it coming.” Madi piped in.

“Thanks, Madi. Just tell the whole world my weaknesses why don’t you?”

“Why are you people such DISASTERS? Just take off your shoes in the foyer!  _ Especially  _ if it’s been raining!” Monica screeched.

“Okay, Mom” Madi replied and Monica groaned. 

“What are Kookie’s weakness?” Jin asked swiping an apple from the counter and taking a bite.

“Jungkook apparently can’t see things that come from his left.” Monica supplied, slouching onto a dining room chair, defeated. “This is why we can’t have nice things.” 

“That is  _ not  _ -” Jungkook blurted.

“Wow, Kook, you should really work on that. Seems like a pretty fatal Achilles Heel.” Jin said. 

“I-”

“I’ll help you clean up the kitchen, Monica.” Madi said grabbing the mop from the supply closet. “Jungkook is beyond help anyway, as far as I’m concerned.”

“I’ll have you know that pretty soon, I’ll be knocking you on your ass. I just had a bad morning.” 

“Keep telling yourself that,” Madi replied beginning to mop the floor. 

“Woa, Jungkook, let’s keep the threats to a min,” Jin said. “Anyway, see you peasants later, I’m going to go practice.” He grabbed a bow from where it lay on a kitchen chair and began to make his way out the door. 

“Are you serious, you’re not even going to help clean up this mess you made?” Monica shouted at him before he could leave.

“I brought you carrots.”

“So?”

“So, I’ve done my civic duty for the day,” and with a tip of his brow he darted out the door. 

“I think I hate him,” Monica muttered. 

Jungkook grabbed an apple and bit into it.“Well, I guess I’ll join him seeing as I apparently can’t defend myself.” 

“Jungkook, give it a rest. Practicing more today isn’t going to help.” Madi replied. 

“Not with that attitude. I’ll see you guys later,” and with that he followed Jin to the training ground leaving the two girls alone.

“Sorry about the kitchen,” Madi said and Monica sighed.

“It’s no biggy. I’m really not mad at you. Mostly Jin.”

“How’s working with him?” 

“A living nightmare. He thinks he can flirt his way out of every situation.”

“I mean, so does Alyssa except she does it unintentionally,” said Madi as she grabbed the mop and began to clean up the dirt on the floor. 

“Trueeee. She really is oblivious.”

Madi chuckled as she mopped and Monica sorted through the carrots on the table. Order was restored and peace began to settle in until Alyssa burst into the kitchen, Namjoon hot on her heels.

“Guys, we have a problem.”

  
  



	5. Chapter 5

“Define  _ problem,”  _ Madi asked. 

“Problem as in the sasaengs are gathering around the outskirts of our base in abnormally large numbers, and we have no clue why,” Namjoon word-vomited, pacing the kitchen. 

“Way to ease them into it,” Alyssa muttered.

“I’d say that qualifies as a problem,” Monica replied, leaning on the kitchen counter.

“What’s a problem?” Jacq entered the room, Yoongi hot on her heels. 

“Y’know how you can get some stellar views from the library windows?” Alyssa asked, grabbing a mug from the fridge and filling it with water. 

“Really, Alyssa? We have glasses,” Monica said.

“What? This is my special mug.” She chugged some water and slammed the mug onto the counter, causing Monica to flinch. “Anyway, Namjoon and I were doing some research in the library when we noticed that the buildings on the outskirts of your wards seemed to have moving figures inside them. So, I grabbed some binoculars, and low and behold, they are  _ swarming  _ with sasaengs.” 

“Like hundreds - if not thousands - are gathered in almost all of the neighboring buildings. It’s a miracle that no one has gotten snatched on a run yet,” Namjoon added. 

“Jacq, have you noticed anything on the borders?” Alyssa asked, and Jacq flinched. 

“...No, I haven’t. I’m not sure why...it’s just that these headaches have really been hitting me hard lately. I’m not sure what’s going on, but the shields are not nearly as strong as they used to be. As much as I hate to say it, we just can’t rely on them anymore.”

“That’s concerning for sure.” Alyssa’s brow furrowed, lips turning downwards at the edges. “What do you need to make it better?” 

“I don’t know? I don’t know what’s causing them.” The space behind her eyes pulsed slightly as if in response to the topic of conversation, and Jacq groaned. “Maybe if I just lay down and take a break, I can try to reserve some of my power.” 

Everyone else in the room shared a glance that did not go unnoticed by Jacq, but it was Alyssa who spoke up first. 

“I think that’s a good idea.”

Jacq nodded and scampered off to find somewhere to lay down. She wasn’t sure what was happening to her and if that many sasaengs have gathered nearby, she didn’t know why she hadn’t noticed. Her weakness was beyond frustrating. She couldn’t fight - take away her blood magic, what would she have left? 

“So, what do we do?” Yoongi asked, preparing himself a sandwich.

Namjoon ran his hands over his face and groaned. “We don’t have a lot of options. Our borders are weak, and we don’t have enough people to properly protect them.” He paused, biting his lower lip his eyes raising to meet Alyssa’s from across the kitchen island. She quickly averted her gaze. “In fact, our numbers don’t match theirs at all, even if we all  _ could _ fight well. Running isn’t an option either - they have us surrounded.”

“So, what options does that leave us, then?” Monica asked. 

“Give up,” Madi replied. Monica shot her a scowl, and Madi shrugged. “What? It’s not like I thought I would live this long anyway.”

“Okay, well  _ besides _ giving up, the only option I can see is potentially dropping the wards around the whole campus.” Alyssa tilted her head to the ceiling, fingers delicately tracing the rim of her mug. “It’s clear Jacq isn’t strong enough to keep them up the way they are anyway, but we might be able to move them closer. Like, directly over our living space, for example. Fortify the strength here, and we can keep focusing on training.”

“And what? Outlast them? Aren’t they like, immortal or some shit?” Madi asked.

“Well, not outlast per say but maybe make it seem like we’re not here anymore?”

“I don’t know about that.” Yoongi answered, munching on his sandwich. 

“Unfortunately, we may not have another option.” Namjoon leaned his elbows onto the island, resting his chin in his hands.

“God, if only we had someone else with Jacq’s abilities,” Monica groaned. “That would literally solve all of our problems.”

“It’s a miracle she’s made it this long, honestly. She needs to rest.” Alyssa answered. “Let’s see if we can buy her some time.” 

* * *

Jacq felt like death incarnate. She was laid out on a couch in one of the many living hovels around the base. Her room was a distraction from sleep (she always wanted to read the old, printed out fanfics that she had laminated for prosperity before the Internet went down permanently. No one could ever say she wasn’t prepared). So, she had found herself in a secluded lounge deep in the base where she hoped she could catch some Z’s. 

She was on the brink of sweet, sweet oblivion when she heard the door swing open and a soft “Oh, my bad” whispered out into the room. 

Jacq’s eyes flew open to reveal a startled Taehyung standing in the doorway. 

“It’s fine, you can come in. I doubt the nap would have helped anyway.” She propped herself up on her elbows, and Taehyung, taking the invitation, sheepishly entered the room.

“Sorry, this is one of my favorite relaxation spots. I didn’t know anyone knew about it.”

“I know about everything on this base.”

_ “Everything?”  _ Taehyung asked, eyes wide in awe.

“ _ Everything,”  _ she narrowed her own eyes at him hoping to get across her meaning to the one she had coined  _ masturbation boy _ . 

“Uh. . . okay. Why are you trying to nap your problems away, anyway? I thought only Yoongi did that. Is he rubbing off on you already?”

“It’s not that, it’s these fucking headaches. I feel like they’re escalating, and I have no idea what’s causing them. It’s incredibly frustrating.” 

“That’s weird. Mine have become more frequent, too. It’s terribly inconvenient. Too much chafing.”

Jacq shot him a disgusted look. “You have  _ seriously  _ got to stop talking about masturbating away your problems.”

“It’s a cure all, I’m telling you. Have you tried it yet?”

“No!”

He put his hands up in an  _ I surrender _ gesture. “Look, I’m not saying your clit should be your number one priority, but it should definitely be on the list. Don’t knock it til you try it.” 

A horrifying thought descended on Jacq’s brain. “Wait - oh my god, Taehyung. Do you masturbate in this room? Is that why it’s like your super-secret-special place?”

He raised an eyebrow. “A better question is where  _ haven’t  _ I masturbated in this complex?”

Jacq could feel nausea rising in her gut and she sat up slowly. “Taehyung. . . . have you masturbated . . . on this  _ couch?” _

_ “ _ I thought you knew  _ everything  _ little miss blood magic _ ?” _

Jacq lurched off of the couch faster than the speed of light, ready to absolutely wreck this boy, when the force of a headache drove her to her knees in a scream. Strangely enough, Taehyung also clutched his head in pain and sunk to the ground, and for a few neverending seconds both of them could do little but wail as the pain burned in their minds. Slowly, it ebbed away, leaving them sprawled on the floor, exhausted. 

“What. The actual. Fuck?” Taehyung puffed as he regained his composure and sat up, hair in disarray. “I don’t think I’ve _ever _had one that bad.” 

For a few seconds, Jacq just lay on the ground staring at the ceiling, contemplating just killing herself now and ending it all. If not for the fact that her friends would surely die without her premonitions, she would have done it weeks ago when the headaches first started. She was a lightweight in both pain and alcohol, and boy this was taking a toll on her mental stability. 

What was stranger, perhaps, than her ongoing mental nightmare, was the fact that it seemed to affect Taehyung just as badly. She turned to look at him where he sat on the floor, cross-legged and doe-eyed like an innocent child, and not like the dirty young man he had come across as only moments before. 

“Taehyung, how long did you say your headaches were happening?”

“Uh, I don’t know. A few months?” 

_ Interesting. _

“Okay. What do you know about blood magic?”

“What do  _ you  _ know about blood magic?” He replied snidely.

Touché.

“Well, you got me there - I don’t know much. I didn’t even know magic existed, before all of this. Hell, it’s probably some weird reaction to all the nuclear and biowarfare shit I’ve been exposed to in the last few years.”

“Probably means you’re gonna die soon.”

“Gee, thanks for that tidbit. What I’m trying to say is, have you noticed anything weird about how you interact with the world?”

Taehyung stared at the ceiling for a minute, contemplating. “Like, what sort of things?”

“Like . . . energy? That you can manipulate into existence? Like...forcefields. Uh. . .premonitions towards . . . anything? Like, I can tell the distant future, but not like in a dream or whatever, but more like I can see people or places and I get feelings about what their future is going to be. I don’t have it down to a science or anything, just like bursts of energy that occasionally manifest into futuristic predictions.”

Taehyung stared at her for a few moments.

“Wait. So, you’re telling me that’s  _ not _ normal?” He said, and Jacq shot him a quizzical look.

“What’s not normal?”

“. . . the voices? The . . . feelings?”

For probably the millionth time that month, Jacq wondered what their upbringings in Korea must have been like. 

“Taehyung.  _ Why  _ would that be normal?” 

“I mean, I just sort of thought it was? For me, these kinds of feelings have been happening since long before the War.”

“How long?”

“I don’t know? Years? For instance, once I got really pissed at Hoseok because he pulled one of his stupid pranks when we were drunk, and so I just kinda, flipped y’know?”

Jacq did not know. Jacq hadn’t ‘flipped’ in her entire life, but she nodded anyway. 

“Anyway, he was running away from me and he just sort of . . . . collided with a wall that wasn’t actually there.”

_ Interesting.  _ “And you never found that strange?” She asked. 

“I mean honestly, I thought I just imagined it. We were all so trashed. . . and it’s only happened that severely a couple of times in my life. I never felt like I could tell the future or anything like that, but lately. . . lately I’ve been getting really strong cases of dejá vu and . . . . feelings about . . . uh . . .members of the group?”

“Like. . . .  _ homosexual _ feelings?” She knew it was low hanging fruit, but c’mon. They made it so easy. 

“No, not  _ homosexual  _ feelings.” He spat. “Just emotions that I’ve come to associate with each of them. Feelings and relationships that are starting to form. I feel like I know what’s going to happen.”

Jacq thought for a minute. His affinities were definitely similar to her’s, but Jacq found herself getting more general futuristic predictions with her abilities. Hell, she wasn’t even really sure what the true extent of her abilities  _ was. _ Taehyung’s seemed to be more related to those around him and the relationships they each formed.

“What kind of feelings?” She asked, curiosity getting the better of her. 

Taehyung seemed to catch on and shot her a look. “I’m not going to tell you that, just know that I understand you, and I have no clue on how any of this works either. We can figure it out together, and all that nonsense.”

It did make Jacq feel better knowing that someone else was having some kind of weird premonitions too, but honestly, this just opened up a whole new can of worms. He’d been having these feelings since  _ before _ the war? Did that mean she had as well and had just never realized it? And they still didn’t even know the extent of their powers. But maybe. . . if she could train him, he could help with the forcefield? 

“I will say that amongst all the emotions and futuristic developments I’ve been feeling,” Taehyung continued. “There’s one person who doesn’t seem to give any energy off.”

“Huh, that’s strange, right? Has it always been like that?”

“No, it’s recent. I probably noticed it starting about...5 months ago? One day he had his aura, full and strong, and the next - nothing.”

“Who is it?” Jacq asked. 

Taehyung exhaled and looked Jacq right in the eyes.

“Yoongi.”

* * *

Yoongi was wandering. It was something he did often; when he wasn’t in the lab with Jacq, he enjoyed the solitude of walking around the campus alone. It was simple a luxury he allowed himself now that he wasn’t sharing a penthouse suite with the boys. 

Animals had just recently started to make their way back into the warzones. The earth was starting to reclaim the rubble that was once America’s largest cities, and the whole ‘overgrown building look’ was something that Yoongi thought was actually quite magical. He was walking along one of his favorite paths, well inside Jacq’s mind borders for security, (but he was also armed with a small pistol) when he heard a voice coming from his left. 

“Look, Kesha, if you’re going to keep being difficult, I’m going to pull the whole damn thing and then you’re going to have the ugliest mohawk in whatever remains of the Eastern United States. All the other horses will make fun of you for being an ugly sack of shit.” 

Yoongi followed the profanity into a clearing to find Alyssa standing next to Kesha, one of the groups’ horses, tugging on her mane. A pile of hair lay on the ground by her feet, and Kesha stamped her legs impatiently, tugging on her lead which was fastened to a tree branch as she leaned for the long grass just out of reach. 

Seeing Yoongi, Alyssa gave him a wave and then got back to work teasing and tugging out the hair on the horse’s neck. Yoongi walked over and watched for a minute before saying anything.

“Doesn’t that hurt her? Ripping out her hair like that?”

Alyssa shook her head. “No. Horses have very little nerve endings here. By using this technique, you get a more natural cut than you would with scissors. It takes longer, but quality always does.”

Yoongi watched for a minute, until he felt like he understood the technique.

“Can I try?”

Alyssa shrugged. “Sure, it’s pretty boring though.”

“I don’t mind.” He took the small metal comb from her and grabbed a lock of the horse’s hair, teasing it like he’d seen Alyssa do.

“Here, a bit more like this.” She grabbed his hand and showed him the motion, wrapping the hair around the comb and tugging strongly on Kesha’s mane until it ripped out.

“I feel like I’m going to hurt her!”

“Nah, see?” She motioned to Kesha, who was happy to have reached the outskirts of the grass and was munching happily. “She doesn’t feel a thing.” 

Yoongi relaxed and began to pull the mane, and Alyssa sat on a nearby log, sipping her water. For a few minutes, both sat in comfortable silence, the only sound Kesha’s satisfied munching as she mowed the lawn for them. 

“I never said I was sorry,” Alyssa said, staring off into the forest. Yoongi stopped pulling and looked over at her. 

“For what?”

“For hitting you in the head with a can.”

“Oh,” Yoongi turned his attention back to the mane and resumed the repetitive motion. “That’s all water under the bridge now. Plus, I charged you. It was self defense, and honestly, a great shot.”

Alyssa exhaled, a miniscule weight lifted from her shoulders. “Just figured I’d put that out there. Glad we’re good.”

“Can I ask you something?” Yoongi asked. Kesha’s mane was almost done now, and he worked to even out the few long bits.

“Of course, what’s up?” 

“Do you like Joon?”

Alyssa looked taken aback. “Uh. . . as a person? Or . . . .?”

Yoongi tossed the comb in the bucket by Kesha’s hoof and took a seat on the log next to Alyssa, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. 

“You know what I mean.”

Alyssa’s eyes narrowed. “No. I don’t have a crush on Namjoon. I think he’s brilliant, and I trust him to help me make these fucking hard ass decisions, but that’s it.”

“Really?”

“Really.” 

Yoongi sat back on the log. “Well, that’s a bummer.”

“Why?”

He gave her a look. “Wow. You really are just as oblivious as Jacq said.”

“Wait! What did she-”

He raised a hand and gave her a coy smile. “Doesn’t matter. I just figured, with all the time you guys spent together, there might be something there.” 

Alyssa scoffed. “You spend a lot of time with Jacq.”

“Yeah, but neither of us think of the other in that way. We’re just friends.”

“Why can’t Namjoon and I be ‘just friends’?”

He shrugged. “I’m not saying you can’t. I’m just saying that you two seem to have a chemistry that Jacq and I don’t. Think about it.” 

They sat in silence for a few minutes. Kesha continued to munch contentedly, her new ‘do shining in the sun. 

“Have you talked to Namjoon about this?” Alyssa asked. 

“No. But I don’t need to. He’s easy to read. You’re the mysterious one when it comes to this.”

Alyssa laughed. “Yeah, I get that a lot.”

Yoongi didn’t return the laugh, but he met Alyssa’s eyes and held them. “That’s fine, but I’m asking you as a friend of Namjoon’s to not hurt him. After hitting me in the head with a can-”

“Hey, I apologized!”

“I know, but it still happened, and I think the least you can do is be considerate of my friend’s feelings that he may or may not have.”

She gave him a side eye. “Are you going to hold that over my head forever?”

He finally gave her a toothy smile. “You bet.” 

They sat for a few minutes, deep in thought as they enjoyed the peace of the forest. Silence was hard to come by nowadays with so many loud people in one place. Eventually, Alyssa left to take Kesha back to the barn, and Yoongi continued his walk, Namjoon and Alyssa still on his brain. He couldn’t help but think that he knew more than either of them would for a while. 

* * *

Monica was still debating as to whether or not today was the day she would fire Jin. Well, she wasn't sure she  _ could  _ fire Jin, but he was getting on her every last nerve and she had to do  _ something _ . He had a few traits which allowed him to be remotely useful in the kitchen, like his pretty okay cooking ability, and his talent for cleaning up after himself, but his  _ personality, godammit _ . He was potentially the most annoying person Monica had ever met, and she had met a lot of terrible people. He probably ranked even higher on her list than the furry she sat next to in animation class in college. 

It wasn’t even like he was weird or gross. He just would  _ not stop talking.  _ Like, all the time. It was a constant chatter, and it was driving her insane. She didn’t know if it was a coping mechanism, or the inability to be comfortable in silence, but if he didn’t shut up soon she was going to put some cyanide in his morning ‘beauty smoothie’ and blame it on the expired makeup he insisted on wearing. 

Currently, Jin was jabbering away about how he was once worried that Jinyoung from GOT7 was more beautiful than him, but then he saw him at the gym and realized he had ‘unsightly calves’. 

“I’m just saying that you have to take every piece of your body into account when ranking someone by beauty, and Jinyoung’s calves-” Jin cringed while he wiped off the counter. “-  _ yikes.  _ That boy needs surgery.” 

“I happen to think Jinyoung is incredibly handsome. There was a month where Alyssa and I did nothing but send photos of him to each other on Instagram and coo over his perfect face.” Monica replied. She was across the kitchen from Jin, taking stock of their pantry. They had been getting low on some crucial items the last few weeks but now taking inventory, Monica was really concerned. They needed to find some new stores to raid and fast, otherwise there wouldn’t be group for the sasaengs to attack if they all starved to death. She’d have to bring it up to Alyssa. 

Jin looked at Monica, mouth agape. “...Monica. Wait. You don’t think Jinyoung is more attractive than  _ me _ ?”

_ Here’s my chance,  _ Monica thought, slowly standing up from where she was crouched in the pantry.  _ Maybe, if I tell him I think Jinyoung is more attractive it’ll be a blow to his fucking ego and we can finally talk about something else. Or, better yet, he’ll just stop talking. Sulking is better than chatter.  _

“What if I  _ do _ think he’s more attractive? Why does that matter? It’s the end of the world anyway. Chances are, Korea is still up and running, and he has the new title of worldwide handsome.”

Jin turned beet red. “Don’t say that! I literally had a nightmare about that last week.” 

Monica cocked an eyebrow at him. “It worries you  _ that  _ much?”

“Yes! It’s literally one of my main fears,” Jin exclaimed. “Now answer the question! Who’s more attractive?”

Monica paused, for dramatic effect. She knew she was being a bitch, but she thrived off the power. 

“I think Jinyoung is more attractive than you.”

The reaction was immediate, and resulted in damage comparable to that of the atomic bomb being dropped on Hiroshima. Jin threw back his head and screamed at the ceiling. 

“IT’S HAPPENING! I KNEW I PEAKED IN HIGH SCHOOOOOOOOL!!!”

Monica was wrong about the statement bringing her silence. In fact, it brought the complete opposite. Jin, looking like he was close to tears, began ranting about his age and how the wrinkles were sure to set in soon and with Jinyoung being 2 years younger, that was 2 more years of youth than Jin had. He went on and on about the sunspots he got from walking to get food during the fallout and how without his normal workout routine, his eight pack was becoming only six. It was at this moment, of course, that Alyssa decided to enter the kitchen and Monica knew that the end was nye.

Jin who was across the kitchen, flew towards the door and in no time flat had Alyssa gripped by the shoulders and was shaking her violently. 

“ALYSSA!! WHO IS MORE BEAUTIFUL: ME OR JINYOUNG?”

“Jinyoung from GOT7?” 

“YES! EXACTLY THAT JINYOUNG!” 

Jin ceased his shaking and Alyssa looked over at Monica and gave her The Look. The Look meant exactly what Monica feared most.  _ Don’t fucking do it, Alyssa.  _

_ Nothing _ got past Alyssa. She could feel vibes like no other and she knew the minute she walked into the kitchen that Jin was upset about something. Honestly, the screams of distress probably led her to the kitchen, subconsciously or not. Now Alyssa knew  _ why  _ he was flustered. Monica shook her head slowly, trying to get across that Alyssa should absolutely  _ not _ do what she was thinking, but Monica had also known her for years and there was little that the older girl enjoyed more than causing social disasters. Alyssa raised an eyebrow, and Monica knew it was over. 

Turning her attention back to Jin, who was breathing heavily, Alyssa uttered the one word that ruined any chance Monica had of a peaceful work environment for the remainder of the month. 

“Jinyoung.” 

Jin released Alyssa and let out an inhuman wail, similar in tone to the sasaengs currently amassing in the nearby buildings, and Alyssa cackled. Monica contemplated poisoning the whole group just so she could work in peace.

Jacq and Hoseok chose this moment, of all moments, to waltz into the room and immediately froze, taking in the scene before them. Jin, seeing the new arrivals, stopped screaming abruptly, but didn’t look happy about it. 

“I’m not even going to ask you two because all you people ever do is disappoint me, time and time again.” He muttered, and Jacq shot Alyssa a questioning look. Alyssa shrugged like she had no clue what was going on, and Monica sighed. Hoseok, oblivious as always, looked confused. 

“I’ll be in my room crying if anyone needs me,” Jin excused himself from the kitchen, and no one said anything for a minute. Monica popped some expired Advil. Four, because she was looking to die. 

“So, anyone wanna catch us up with whatever that was about?” Jacq asked. 

“Ask Alyssa, she escalated it.” Monica replied.

“Umm? You  _ started  _ it. He was a mess looong before I came into the room. I just  _ pushed  _ him a little.” Alyssa said innocently. 

“Regardless, I’m going to go lie down. It’s been a morning.” Monica left the kitchen, and the three remaining souls chattered for a minute about the events as they made lunch. 

* * *

After eating, Hoseok, Alyssa, and Jacq sat at the table swapping stories from their pasts and day drinking because what the fuck else do you have to do in the apocalypse? 

“Okay, Hoseok, I have to ask. What the  _ fuck  _ was the chicken noodle soup video?” Jacq asked, taking a swig from her Mike’s Hard stash. 

“What do you mean?”

“She means, the hair. The fucking English lyrics. We have so many questions.” Alyssa replied. She was drinking straight vodka because she wasn’t a bitch. 

“Ladies, let’s not talk about work-”

“No, let’s.” Alyssa interrupted. “We’ve exhausted all other topics of conversation, and we’re not exactly doing anything  _ new  _ in this shithole.”

“Hey!” Jacq said. “It may be a shithole, but it’s  _ our  _ shithole.” 

The girls raised their glasses to that. 

Madi and Jungkook entered the kitchen, followed by a what looked to be a completely stressed out Namjoon.

“Ah, see? I told you she’d be in the kitchen.” Madi said, motioning to Alyssa. “When in doubt, check the places with food. She’s even broken into her water substitute.”

Namjoon ran a hand through his hair and gave Alyssa a glare. “Really, Alyssa? It’s 4PM.”

“And?” Alyssa raised her glass to him. “At least there’s a ‘PM’.” 

“Ayyyyeeeee!” Hoseok responded, and she gave him a fistpump. Jacq hiccuped. 

“We have a crisis. The sasaengs could attack at any time!” Namjoon said earnestly. 

“Let ‘em.” Madi said, taking a seat across from Alyssa and pouring herself a shot. “If we’re going to die, better to die drunk.”

“That’s my girl.” Alyssa cheered. “C’mon Joon, don’t be such a worry wart. One night-”

“Day.” Hoseok corrected. 

Alyssa shot him a finger gun. “- _ day  _ of drinking isn’t going to kill you.”

Namjoon quirked an eyebrow at her, and whether it was from her use of his nickname or the fact that she couldn’t stop smiling, he relented and slid into a chair beside her. She poured him a shot and slid it over to him.

“Do we have any chasers?” He asked warily.

“Don’t be a pussy.” She replied. “Jungkook? Pick your poison.”

Madi had almost forgotten she’d dragged Jungkook with her when Namjoon had sought them out looking for Alyssa, and she patted the seat beside her. “Don’t tell me you don’t drink.”

“Oh,” He sat down beside her and gave her a grin as he grabbed the vodka bottle and poured a shot. “I drink.” 

The group continued to hassle one another until they began to draw the attention of the other members in the complex. Slowly but surely, Taehyung and Yoongi grabbed seats, and Monica woke from her nap.

“Oh, thank God,” She shouted as she grabbed a drink and sat on a stool. “I need to drink myself into oblivion  _ so _ bad.” 

“ _ You  _ need to drink yourself into oblivion?” The groups’ attention shifted to Jin, who stood in the doorway, his face puffy. “I just found out that I’m the ugliest person alive. Hand me that bottle.”

“He  _ just _ found out?” Yoongi stage-whispered to Jacq, and she almost spat her drink onto Hoseok, who grabbed a napkin and pressed it to her lips.

“Uh, uh, none of that. You swallow that shit.” 

“That’s what he said.” Taehyung blurted, and the group broke out into laughter. 

“What are you guys doing?”

A hush fell over the crowd when they saw Jimin standing in the doorway. 

“Can I join?” 

He walked towards the table, and Alyssa slid him the bottle.

“We’ve been waiting for you, you big doofus.”

Jimin smiled shyly as he poured a drink. “I just wanted to see if you guys were crazy or not.”

“And?” Madi asked.

“You definitely are. But not the dangerous kind.”

Everyone cheered, fueled by alcohol, and soon music was blasting from Jacq’s record player and people were dancing. Some of them very well, but most not so much. 

Hoseok, for example, had a slender hand wrapped around Jacq’s waist and was trying to teach her to salsa while Yoongi shouted tips from the couch. 

“Hoseok, maybe if you had a bit more sex appeal you could make this work. Someone get this boy a rose to hold in his mouth!” 

“Look, Yoongi, we all know you can’t dance, so can you please stop backseat driving?” Hoseok shouted back, his words slurring a little. “Besides, I’m a master at sex appeal.” 

“I beg to differ,” Jacq responded. “And maybe, you’d be able to focus more if your hand wasn’t on my  _ ass.” _

Yoongi snorted as she grabbed Hoseok’s hand and brought it back up to her waist. 

“You can thank my friend, Absolut, for that little slip up,” Hoseok responded as he pulled Jacq around the living room, almost colliding with Jungkook, who was debating his inability to block things from his left with Taehyung and Jimin. 

“It’s not that I  _ always  _ miss things that come from my left. It’s just that I did that day a lot more than usual!”

Jimin gave him a skeptical look. “And you think you’re getting better?” 

“I  _ know  _ I’m getting better.” 

“Guess we’ll just have to ask Madi. If she says no, you’re drinking those kamikazes.” 

“Uh,  _ absolutely _ not. Plus, what does she know? She’ll probably just say I suck anyway! It’s one of her favorite pastimes!” 

“Guess we’ll find out!” Taehyung exclaimed as he darted across the room and grabbed Madi’s wrist from where she stood talking to Alyssa. Without asking permission, he literally pulled her into the conversation. 

“Taehyung, what the  _ fuck? _ ” Her face was flushed from the drinks, and her blue eyes wide from the shock of abruptly being dragged across the room. Jungkook was struck by how beautiful she looked at that moment. Blame it on the alcohol, but it took a few shouts of his name from Jimin to drag him back to reality.

“Hey!” Jimin snapped his fingers in front of Jungkook’s eyes. “Earth to Jungkook! There is no passing out on drinking nights. Hold your liquor like an adult.” 

“I’m sorry, what were we. . . ?” Jungkook stuttered, and Madi gave him a smirk. He wondered if she knew what he had been thinking about. She gave off so many crazy vibes, he wouldn’t doubt it. He wondered if he wanted her to know. 

“Jungkook, your idiocy continues to astound me even to this day.” Jimin announced. “My dearest Madeleine-”

“Not my name.” 

“Not my problem. My dearest Madeleine, do you think our darling Jungkook can properly avoid blows from his left now?” 

Before Jungkook knew what was happening, Madi pulled back her arm and punched him, right in the chest. 

“No.”

Jungkook clutched his left man boob. “OWWW?”

Madi scrunched up her face. “Don’t be a baby. I didn’t punch you  _ that  _ hard.” 

“I think the victim should determine the hardness in which you punched!”

Madi turned to the other boys. “Does that answer your question?” 

Jimin and Taehyung exchanged glances, and then broke into a cheer. Jimin grabbed a short glass, filled it to the brim, and forced Jungkook to take it before rampaging off to harass Yoongi, Taehyung in tow. 

Jungkook finished the liquor and cringed. “God, I hate vodka.” 

“Want one of Jacq’s Mike’s Hard?”

“No, those are too sweet for me. Gives me a hangover. God,” He rubbed his chest again. “You really nailed me.”

“Did it really hurt that bad?”

“Yes!”

“Well, better learn to block from your left.” 

Monica had some making up to do. Jin sat in the kitchen, avoiding the noisy activities taking place in the living room, and she found him slouched over a beer looking forlornly off into the distance. 

“Do you know how many calories are in a beer, Jin?” 

He looked at the can and sighed. “Whatever. I’m already ugly. May as well be fat, too.” 

“Oh, get a grip. You can’t seriously be that upset over this. No one said you were ugly. We just said that we thought Jinyoung was more attractive. Beauty is subjective.” 

“Beauty is all I have, Monica. In the group, I was never the best at anything. My looks got me into the industry, and they helped me stay in it.” 

Monica took a seat next to him. “You can’t seriously think that. You’re a phenomenal singer.”

“Jungkook’s better.”

“You need to stop comparing yourself to other people. You’re holding yourself to these ridiculously high standards, and the only person it’s hurting is you.” 

Jin sighed. “You’re right. I’m being too harsh on myself. It’s the Korean way.”

Monica snorted. “Besides, it’s not like you’re ugly. At least you got that going for you.”

He gave her a glance. “Monica. Do you think I’m handsome?”

“Why do you care? The whole world thought you were handsome before the war.”

“Because,” He said, gripping his can tightly. “I want to hear it from you.” 

Monica scoffed. “Well, you’re going to be waiting for awhile.”

Despite everything, Jin managed to choke out a laugh. “I guess that’s exactly what I’d expect from you.”

“Damn straight.”

  
  


After Madi had been torn from her side, Alyssa figured she’d get some fresh air. She headed out of the complex to the garden, only to find that someone had beaten her to it. 

“It’s a nice night, huh?” Namjoon sat on the outskirts of the garden. The sun had finally set during the festivities, but the moon was full and he was perfectly illuminated. Alyssa walked over to him and sat down, looking up at the stars. The amount of stars you could see now that the city lights were extinguished was unbelievable.

“Yeah, this is the perfect temperature.” 

They sat in comfortable silence for a moment, and the distant sound of the party rolled over the grass, creating the eerie illusion of a city still alive. Alyssa could feel the alcohol in her veins starting to fade, exhaustion setting in from the events of the past few days. Preparations had begun to get under way for the incoming sasaengs, and it was draining on her nerves. 

“Are you worried?” Namjoon whispered, the breeze gently lifting his hair. 

“About what?” 

“The sasaengs. The future. What we could lose.” 

Alyssa sighed. “Yeah. You?”

He laughed, staring across the mall. “God, fuck yes. It’s nice to know that I don’t have to make these decisions myself, though.”

Alyssa looked at him. “What do you mean? You’ve had the guys with you the whole time.”

“Yeah, but none of them really stepped forward to shoulder the burden of the heavy decision-making. I mean, Jin and Yoongi assisted when I needed help, but they left the big decisions up to me. They never wanted to share the blame if something went wrong.” 

“God, I’m so sorry.” Alyssa hadn’t had that experience at all. Granted, she’d been alone for most of the time, but even when she was reunited with the girls, they shared the big decisions. It often caused debate, but she felt they reached better solutions by the end. She may have been the instigator in the group, but she never had to shoulder the leadership burden alone. “I’ll be more than happy to argue with your plans, don’t worry.”

“Yeah, I have a feeling you’ll be a pain in my ass for a while yet.”

“Better count on it, Kim.” 

A loud shot broke them out of their conversation, and they whipped around to see a wasted Madi sitting on Jungkook’s shoulders, shotgun in hand, shooting at the sky. Some of the others had come outside to watch, and Alyssa faintly heard Madi scream “Take that, Moon!” aggressively up at the sky.

“ _ Fuck! _ ” Alyssa jumped to her feet and immediately lost her balance, the alcohol rushing to her head. Namjoon was one step ahead of her, and wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her close to him to steady her. Alyssa tried not to focus on the strength she could feel coiled in his body. His slim figure was deceiving. 

“Woah, take it easy. You were chugging Absolut a few hours ago.” 

“Psh, nothing I haven’t done before.” She said, unwrapping herself from his grasp. “Gotta take care of my idiots, though. Even tipsy.” 

The two made their way over to where Madi was still shouting at the moon atop what looked to be an extremely happy - and drunk - Jungkook. 

“Madi, what the fuck?” Alyssa asked. 

Madi fired another shot into the sky. “She’s pissing me off.”

“The  _ moon?”  _

A strange cry caused the group to abruptly fall into silence. It was a chorus of high pitched sounds, similar to that of children screaming, followed by howls and chirps.  _ Battle cries. _

“Great. You woke up the sasaengs.” 

  
  



	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: There is a character death in this chapter. It is fairly graphic.

Alyssa had never sobered up so quickly in her life. Before she fully realized what was happening, she was pulling Madi from Jungkook’s shoulders and shouting commands at her friends. 

“Everyone, inside! NOW!”

The group shuffled inside as quickly as their drunken minds could - which is to say, very,  _ very  _ slowly. 

“Shit,” Taehyung mumbled when he tripped and fell to the ground in the darkness, his intoxicated mind struggling to catch up to what was happening. “Which way is up, again?” 

Hoseok grabbed him by the shoulders and tugged him to his feet. “C’mon, man, let’s  _ go! _ ” 

Half-carrying, half-dragging Taehyung, Hoseok followed the others who had already scrambled into the entryway. The screams outside were getting louder, and heavy storm clouds had begun to roll in, reacting to the sasaengs negative energy. 

“Great,” Monica slurred. “That fuckin’ storms gonna wash away all the fall saplings.” 

Alyssa looked at her sharply. “Least of our problems, Monica.” 

“Least of  _ your  _ problems, maybe,” She continued drunkenly, Jin snickering behind her like some sort of hideous lacky. Alyssa raised an eyebrow at him, a silent threat, and he shut up immediately. Monica hiccuped before continuing, “It’s all fun and games until we starve to death this winter.”

“Monica, we’re not going to  _ make it  _ to winter if we can’t survive what’s outside,” Jacq piped up. 

Rain began to fall outside the door and Yoongi and Jimin pulled it shut, straining against the strong winds. Next, they grabbed the wardrobe that held the extra coats and pulled it into place in front of the door so the entryway was completely covered. When they looked back at everyone’s shocked faces, Jimin shrugged. “What? Better safe than sorry.”

“I didn’t know Yoongi was that strong,” Hoseok blurted, and Yoongi promptly flipped him off. 

Once again, Jin broke out into an uncontrollable fit of giggles which prompted Monica and Taehyung to start. 

“God _ dammit _ , _ ”  _ Alyssa ran a frustrated hand through her hair and exhaled. “How are we going to stand a chance when half of us are exhausted and the others too shitfaced to realize just how much danger were in?”

“Oh please,” Monica giggled. “Sasaengs aren’t  _ real.” _

“Yeah,” Madi added from where she stood across the foyer. “And the moon’s one basic  _ bitch.” _

“This is not how I imagined I would die,” Jacq tongued her cheek thoughtfully, the existentialist part of her drunken state starting to sink in. “Here me out but: I always imagined passing out peacefully behind the wheel of my Honda and crashing into oncoming traffic.” 

A sasaeng screeched uncomfortably close to the stronghold, breaking the silence following Jacq’s confession.

“Well, on that note,” Namjoon clapped his hands together. “Who’s sober?”

The majority of the group let out a chorus of ‘boo’s’ except for Alyssa, who stood with her arms crossed glaring at Namjoon like it was his fault that everyone was drunk when, in actuality, it had started with her. Jimin was currently holding back Taehyung’s mane while he vomited into the vintage (everything is considered vintage in the apocalypse, honestly) umbrella holder, and Yoongi was watching Hoseok try to cut his own t-shirt with a pair of supremely pointy scissors.

“Yoongi, can you stop staring at him and take those scissors?” Namjoon sighed, the direness of the situation starting to hit him almost as hard as it had hit Alyssa moments before. 

“Why? He’s not hurting anyone.”

“Only  _ himself.” _

Hoseok giggled, the scissors dancing dangerously close to his navel. Namjoon inhaled sharply through his teeth.

“He’ll be fine, he’s making a crop top. Plus, everyone’s gotta learn from their mistakes.” Yoongi replied. 

“Dammit, Yoongi. Fine,” Namjoon sighed, exasperated. “You and Jimin gather up these idiots and throw them in a cold shower. Send them out in the order they start to sober up.”

“Ah, ah,” Jin stood up shakily from where he had been sitting on the ground in the entryway to the kitchen. He swayed on his feet, almost colliding with Jungkook, who shoved him off aggressively. “I can  _ not  _ get my hair wet. All that crying today added too much humidity as is, and now it’s poofing in all the wrong places.” 

“Too bad,” Namjoon responded flatly. “Jimin, dunk him.”

“With pleasure,” Jimin took Jin by the wrist and dragged him out of the kitchen. Yoongi corralled the others and when they were gone Namjoon turned to Alyssa. She was pacing the kitchen, hand cradling her elbow, mouth gnawing away on a thumbnail. 

“Alyssa,” Namjoon said softly. She continued to pace, eyes glued to the floor, tension held high in her shoulders. The sasaengs howled outside along with the growing storm. 

“Alyssa,” He repeated, slightly louder. He needed her to focus, get a clear head. He couldn’t do this without her. “ALYSSA!”

She jerked and turned to face him. He could see the edge of tipsiness that still clouded her features, and he wished desperately that he didn’t have to force her out of it right now - but their survival depended on it. 

“We need to come up with a plan,” He said, gathering up some pens and paper from the living room coffee table and bringing them to the kitchen island. Alyssa nodded and stood next to him, grabbing a sheet and beginning to make a bullet list, her specialty. Watching her do such a mundane task that he’d witnessed a thousand times before in the library brought forward a wave of emotions that he hurriedly shut down to the deeper parts of his conscious. Was this the last time they would work together?

“Okay,” Alyssa started, chewing her lower lip. “Step one: We need to barricade all entrances into the base.”

“Should be simple enough. This one’s handled, which just leaves the drop down from the Reflecting Pool, and I don’t think the sasaengs could figure that out on their own.”

“True. Next, providing we can get everyone sobered up, we should close off the distant parts of the base and focus on the central main area. Force the sasaengs to come into a small space we can easily defend.” 

Namjoon nodded in agreement. “We can fortify the spaces with furniture, weapons, ammo-” 

“And hopefully, hold them off long enough to eliminate the sasaengs if they  _ do  _ get in. There’s always the slight possibility they can’t figure out how to get in here.”

Namjoon met her eyes. “Slight.” 

She exhaled. “But, if there’s too many - which, it sounds like there is - we could get overwhelmed. Hell, half of our group is currently too intoxicated to stand up, let alone fight a supernatural army.” 

“They’ll sober up. No one know hows to wreck a good drunken state with a cold detachable shower head better than Jimin.”

“For our sake, I hope your right.”

“What up bitches, I’m back and wishing I wasn’t,” Jacq entered the kitchen followed by a soaked Hoseok and an exhausted Monica. 

“What do you think the odds are we could just ignore the sasaengs until they went away?” Hoseok asked, wringing out his hair in the sink. 

A screech echoed outside, too close for comfort, and Jacq jumped. “I’d say slim to none.” 

“Ugghh,” Monica groaned. “Sasaengs, this is  _ so  _ not cool.” 

Alyssa and Namjoon quickly relayed the plan to the group as the others slowly trickled in. The stench of alcohol had left their bodies, but the remaining traces along with the after-drinking exhaustion was starting to set in. If there were too many sasaengs, this was going to be a short night.

* * *

Madi toyed with the edge of her axe in the dimly lit den. It had been a few hours since the sasaengs had first forced the group into action, and the storm still howled outside. Her, Jin, and Jimin were the only ones awake. Awake, but they weren’t talking. The others were spread out around the silent room, trying to catch some sleep while they waited to see if the sasaengs would breach their walls. 

It hadn’t taken long for the group to decide which room was to be their base. They picked a den in the central most part of the complex, one with two entrances, and blockaded them with furniture after stocking up on food, water, and weapons. It was laid out in a sort of hexagonal shape, with a mini bar (honestly, there were bars in almost every room in this God forsaken base. As was stated before, there isn’t much  _ else  _ to do in the apocalypse) dividing a small corner of the room, furthest from the entrances. The rest of the room was filled with assorted furniture that the group had procured and split into a maze of various shapes. 

Jacq had brought her mental wards in, managing to draw a bit of Taehyung’s unchecked random power. In the past she had always drawn the power from herself but now with him she was able to draw from his seemingly endless source. They had tried to explain to the group and then given up when they realized no one understood a word of what they were saying. Blood magic’s a fucking mystery, man. 

Madi could feel drowsiness starting to pull at the edges of her mind. It had been a long night, and she hadn’t slept at all. Honestly, she was a bit surprised at her inability to stay awake for the whole night. When did she become such a weak-ass bitch? Once, she had stayed awake for 72 hours straight to finish a film project in college.

A strange noise drew Madi from her thoughts.  _ Shleick, shleeeeick, shleeeeeeick.  _ What the fuck. . . ? She jerked to attention and met the eyes of the others awake across the room. Jin tilted his head, eyes glued to the ceiling and lips pursed to the side, as if trying to place the strange noise. Jimin was one step ahead of both of them and was nudging Namjoon and Yoongi awake with the tip of his shoe before moving on to the rest of the boys. 

Madi figured that was probably the way to go, and looked down from her perch atop the couch to see Alyssa and Monica passed out on the soft cushions. Picking up a pillow from the ground, she picked her target, drew back her arm, and fired. 

“What the FUC-” Alyssa never got to fully realize her exclamation because at that moment, a sasaeng slammed through one of the doorways and burst into the den with an impossibly loud screech. 

The group sprung into action, snatching weapons that were spread out across the room. Namjoon took the lead. 

“Jungkook, Yoongi; barricade that door!” 

The two men ran to the door that the sasaeng had penetrated and struggled to push another piece of furniture in front of the gap. Jungkook’s eyes widened when he saw what lay in the hallway beyond.

“Uh, Joon?” He shouted, turning over his shoulder. He could see Madi and Jimin slashing away at the sasaeng that had broken into the room. Alyssa stood in the center of the room with Namjoon, watching the fight but also keeping an eye on both entrances, weapons at the ready. Taehyung stood by the other entrance, warily inspecting it for any signs of danger. None so far. 

Jacq, Monica, and Jin had immediately retreated behind the bar counter. Monica was virtually useless, with only her medic bag and a small dagger. Jacq could only do so much due to her drained magic, so she had stashed some bombs inside the counter to prepare for a worse case scenario. Jin stood in front of them both, bow strung and ready to fire if any sasaengs got too close. 

“Joon?!” Jungkook shouted again when he didn’t receive an immediate response. He felt Yoongi tense next to him when the older man saw the hallway.

“What, Kook?” Namjoon shouted, eyes on the fight. 

“How do you feel about, uh, let’s say. . . twenty sasaeng cuties looking to crash the party?”

Everyone in the room tore their eyes from the fight, including the two involved which meant Jimin took a blow to the gut before Madi slashed off the sasaengs head, dissolving it into a puddle of goo. 

“Oww,” Jimin muttered, rubbing his stomach.

“Don’t be a pussy,” Madi slapped him on the back.

“Uh, well. I wouldn’t feel  _ great!” _ Namjoon shouted back before leaping across the room to stand next to Jungkook and Yoongi, who were still trying to force the wardrobe into place. He leaned over them, using his freakishly tall height to his advantage, but was taken aback when his view was met with nothing but darkness. Squinting his eyes to try and get a better look, he realized why. He wasn’t looking at the hallway. He was looking at what appeared to be an uncountable number of sasaengs squirming and sliding over every surface of the tight space. Their gooey flesh was darker than a night with a new moon, and their amorphous forms made it hard to see where one stopped and the others began. 

“ _ Shit! _ ” He hissed. 

“How bad is it?” Alyssa asked. Namjoon hadn’t realized she’d come up behind him, and flinched at the sudden intrusion of a voice on his dismal thoughts. 

“Uh . . . . not ideal?” 

“Let me se-”

“Nope, better not,” He said, grabbing her elbow and dragging her away from the door as Jungkook and Yoongi finally clicked the wardrobe into place. “One of us needs to maintain some form of optimism.” 

She looked up at him, a single eyebrow raised. “I’m not an optimist.” 

“Wishful thinking, on my part,” Namjoon looked at everyone else, strewn out across the room. “Alright guys, I’m not gonna lie: there are  _ a lot _ of sasaengs out there. I don’t know how many. But I think our original plan still stands.”

“We had a plan?” Yoongi whispered.

“What? Outlast them?” Jungkook asked. “Joon, there’s more out there than I’ve ever seen.”

“I mean, the hallway is pretty small. There’s probably less than we think.”

“That doesn’t inspire confidence,” Alyssa chirped. 

A rumbling began outside both doors, a series of low moans penetrating the walls. 

“Well,” Monica announced from where she stood behind Jin. ”That’s ominous.” 

Jin raised his bow back into position. Jacq clutched her head, a sharp pain resonating inside her brain.

“More, incoming,” She managed to choke out. 

Namjoon looked at his friends - his  _ family _ \- before answering Jungkook. “We don’t  _ have  _ any other options.” 

Jungkook grabbed his baseball bat (honestly, he was super excited to show it off. He’d spent all afternoon one day modding it out with nails and screws) and took a few practice swings.

“Alright, Gucci Gang. Let’s go.” 

* * *

The sasaengs were absolutely, 100%, not fucking around. They broke down the defenses of the room in no time flat and before the group knew what was happening, they were upon them. 

Alyssa and Namjoon, stuck in the middle, were back to back. Their blades were disappearing in and out of the black masses, making quick work of their enemies. A particularly heavy sasaeng barrelled into Alyssa’s blade, forcing her to take a few steps back, into Namjoon. Thrown off balance, Alyssa watched as the creature lunged for her throat. Exposed, she braced for impact as a toned arm slammed a sword into the creature’s path. Namjoon swung around, gripping her by the shoulders and pulling her to his chest with his left arm while his right forced the blade into the creatures throat, destroying it. 

“You good?” He asked, his head dipped, lips close to her ear. Alyssa inhaled sharply, blaming her racing heartbeat on the adrenaline from the fight. 

“Great,” She rasped, breaking out of his grasp and brushing off her pants before taking in the surroundings of the room. 

Madi slashed away with her axe at two sasaengs on the North end of the room; Jimin and Taehyung assisted as well as they could while simultaneously fending off more. Black blood dripped down Madi’s shirt, and she hoped to God it wasn’t in her hair.  _ Anything  _ dyed blonde hair and this shit would probably take weeks to get out. 

Jungkook and Yoongi were side by side near one doorway, and Hoseok stood on the bar counter assisting in the defense of Monica and Jacq, who were doing their best jabbing small pointed objects at the sasaengs nearby, behind a small mental shield Jacq had thrown up. Jin stood on the ground beside Hoseok, shooting arrows at any sasaeng that got too near the medic and the mage. Hoseok groaned out loud as he downed a fairly large, slimy sasaeng and another popped up in its place. It was never ending. 

“We can’t hold them off forever!” Jin shouted over the noise, trying to get Namjoon’s attention. He could see Hoseok out of the corner of his eye, slowing down. That was a sure sign that things were bad. Very little exhausted the dancer. Namjoon and Alyssa were tag teaming across the room and Jin shouted out his name again. 

“I’m working on it!” Namjoon yelled back. 

“You have any ideas?” Alyssa directed her attention to him momentarily, dodging a charging sasaeng. She deflected its blows with her blade and parried a few steps back.

“No,” Namjoon replied, shoving said sasaeng out of Alyssa’s path and stabbing it in the throat. She shot him an irritated look, and he grinned. “I was hoping one would come to me shortly.” 

“Way to really inspire the masses,” Yoongi trotted up, out of breath. This was more exercise than he had done in weeks and boy was he  _ feeling it, Mr Krabs.  _ Jungkook followed closely behind, his bat slung over his shoulder. He looked like some sick adult version of the Sandlot, but with more gore and a hell of a lot more bicep. They barricaded the door they had been defending with an assortment of mashed together furniture before coming over. 

Alyssa eyed the entryway warily. “Are you sure that’ll hold?” 

“What do I look like? An engineer?” Yoongi stretched his arms to the ceiling, leaning back and forth to try and alleviate some of the tension in his back from fighting. 

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure it’ll be fi- ah  _ fuuuck _ !” Jungkook whined as a pair of sasaeng hands broke through the barricade and began to tear the furniture apart. “Ugh, I’m getting so  _ sick of this.” _

He pulled out his bat, shoulders hunched and brow furrowed as he marched towards the sasaengs and began to smash at the hands that were poking out of the doorway with what some would call ‘excessive force’. 

“Ooh,” Yoongi said. “Jungkook, angry.” 

Namjoon gave him a light shove, and Yoongi burst into laughter at his hulk-like comment to the muscle mass of the younger man before following to help Jungkook with the new invaders. 

Hoseok and Jin knocked down the few remaining sasaengs on their end, and Madi’s group also fell into a lull. Everyone looked around, assessing their teammates. Monica clutched her medical bag, just in case.

“Everyone good?” Alyssa shouted. There was a murmur of assent and a few head nods. They had survived this long seemingly unscathed. 

“That wasn’t too bad,” Jungkook announced, walking back from the doorway. The hands of sasaengs had dissolved into goo around the door. As per climatic progression, Jungkook had spoken too soon. A low rumble encased the room and Hoseok groaned.

“ _ You _ , are a fucking idiot,” Yoongi stated as the second wave of sasaengs shattered the poorly placed barricades and infiltrated the already destroyed room. 

“You have  _ got  _ to be kidding me,” Jimin muttered beside Madi and she grinned, gripping her axe. She was ready. 

It didn’t take long for the group to become overwhelmed. They were exhausted from the first wave and outnumbered beyond belief. Each time a sasaeng went down, two more took its place. It was a battle they couldn’t win. 

Jacq struggled to maintain the barricade around her and Monica, as the sasaengs drew ever closer. Hoseok had leapt off the counter and was now directly in front of her. He was covered in black blood, and she could see how fatigued he was - his lunges didn’t go quite as far and his response times were becoming sluggish. Jin stood a few feet away, shooting arrows into the sasaengs that ran towards them, but there was only so much he could do in the small room. 

Jacq couldn’t even keep track of what else was happening in the room. She saw a blur to her left that could have been Taehyung darting behind a couch and the shape of what she hoped was Jimin slamming into a creature targeting Namjoon. It was chaos. She gripped a bomb tightly in her hand. It was a unanimous agreement in the group that if things went sour, she was to blow the joint. Yes, it would kill everyone here - the room was too small for her to properly aim and control the bomb - but if they were already dead, might as well take as many sasaengs with them as possible. 

Monica flinched to Jacq’s left and she turned to see a sasaeng face break through the barrier, only to let out a horrible screech and fall to the ground, revealing a blood-drenched Hoseok, twin blades in hand, trying to catch his breath. He nodded at Jacq, flashing her one of his signature smiles - whether to reassure her or him, she wasn’t sure, but it didn’t reach his eyes. He must have realized what Jacq had moments before. They weren’t going to win this fight. 

Across the room, Madi was dancing with a tall, lithe sasaeng, making do with what she had. Her axe was a blur as she hacked at its legs, trying to knock it down a few inches so she could reach its neck. The creature howled every time she made impact, but nothing she did seemed to hurt it. It was immensely frustrating.

She was so focused on the creature that she didn’t sense the second one that lunged at her from her left. She screamed as she was thrown off balance and slammed to the ground, the creature’s weight forcing her down, suffocating her. She heard Jungkook scream her name from across the room, but all of her senses were focused on trying to keep the sasaeng’s gaping jaws away from her face. She wasn’t sure where Jimin or Taehyung were, and she knew she couldn’t rely on anyone. Her arms shook with the strain of holding the sasaengs slimy body off her’s. She couldn’t keep this up for much longer.

Jungkook was across the room in an instant. The second he saw Madi go down, he left Yoongi’s side and made a beeline for her body, which was completely covered by the sasaeng. He could see her holding the creature’s teeth away from herself with her precious axe, but judging by the way her arms quivered, he knew she didn’t have long. 

He was mere feet from her when the creature managed to finally wear her down and crash into her body, sinking its teeth into the soft skin between her neck and her shoulder.

Madi  _ screamed _ . 

Jungkook collided with the sasaeng, tearing it off Madi and slamming it into the ground. Clutching his bat, he pummeled it repeatedly into the creature’s head, fueled by fury and adrenaline. He only stopped when the creature was completely liquified, and turned his attention to Madi.

She was laying on the ground, one hand draped across her chest, clutching the open wound. She was otherwise motionless, eyes closed and her breathing faint. He pulled her onto his lap, prying the hand from the wound to try and get a better look, wondering if it was a good sign if she was passed out or not. The battle raged on around them, but Jungkook couldn’t be bothered to care. His sparring partner, his friend, lay in a bloody mess in his lap, and the mixed feelings that it stirred terrified him. 

“Madi, Madi stay with me,” He whispered frantically, trying to get a better look at the wound. The creature’s teeth had left a perfect semi-circle on her shoulder and a steady stream of blood poured out of it. It looked like it was a clean cut (similar to that of a shark bite) but Jungkook remember what Monica had mentioned about arteries. He prayed to whatever higher being there may be that the creature hadn’t punctured one of Madi’s. “Please, wake up, Madi. Say something, please.”

Madi lay there, motionless in his arms, and Jungkook felt true panic for the first time that night. 

“Monica!” He screamed over the battle, hoping she could hear him. “Monica, Madi’s hurt! What do I- What do I  _ do? _ !” 

He scanned the battle, hoping to see her, but it was no good. Clutching Madi, he dragged her towards the wall, out of the center of the room. He was careful to keep as much pressure on her wound as he could, cradling her crumpled body in his arms. Her breathing slowed, and he struggled to rouse her, shaking her gently. 

“God, Madi, hang in there. You can’t go yet. Who’s going to tell me all the things I’m doing wrong and-” His words caught in his throat. He tucked some wayward hair behind her ear, away from her face, tracing the line of her jaw until his fingers brushed her closed lips. “- and wh-whip my ass in literally every session ever and - God, there’s so mu-much we haven’t had a chance to do yet and-”

“Jungkook! Watch out!” Alyssa screamed as she ran towards him from across the room, interrupting his blubbering monologue as he struggled to rouse the unconscious woman. Jungkook followed her gaze to see a sasaeng closing in on him and Madi from where it crawled down the wall above them. There was no way he could get them both out of the way in time. Jungkook reached for his bat, cradling Madi closer to his chest in a desperate attempt to keep her safe. 

Seconds before the creature made impact, Jimin sliced it off the wall like a goddamn superhero. Jungkook stared up at him in shock, doe eyes wide and filled with surprise. Jimin blew him a kiss before backing off to return to Taehyung. “You’re welcome.”

Taehyung was balanced on the arm of a loveseat, firing Tata into one of the entrances to the room, where an indiscriminate number of oozing black figures awaited. He was screaming, a loud, gutteral battle cry, and Jimin had to admit his friend looked pretty bad-ass. He twisted his bladed staff around before running in to pick off Tae’s leftovers, trusting his friend to not shoot him in the chaos.

Jacq could physically feel her power faltering. She had stopped pulling from Taehyung the minute she lost visual, for fear that she may drain him without ever knowing. She didn’t want to be another distraction in the already chaotic event. The bomb felt slippery in her fingers, and she found herself pondering the grey line the group had left up to her to decide. What constituted ‘losing’ in this situation? She couldn’t see her all of her friends, and had no clue which way the battle was swinging. Did she detonate the bomb when Jin and Hoseok got overwhelmed? What if everyone else was winning? 

Jacq couldn’t tell you what she was doing the minute things took a turn for the worst. Everything happened so fast that, when asked later, Jacq could barely recall the joy they had all felt only hours earlier that same evening, filled to the brim with cheap alcohol and dancing to vintage music in the living room. It was like some existential vacuum had turned on and sucked all the good memories right out of her head and replaced them with nothing but cold grief. 

Hoseok had been hurt. Bitten on the shoulder by a sasaeng, he quickly dispatched it, fueled by adrenaline, and then collapsed against the wall when the immediate threat subsided, clutching his wound. Monica had reacted quickly, dodging scuffles and running to his side, her medic bag strapped to her waist. His head lay back against the wall, one long leg fully extended while the other bent in case he needed to jump up again. He was shaking badly - Jacq wasn’t sure from what - and Monica cupped his face, trying to make sure he stayed conscious. She pushed down his other leg and straddled his thighs to try and get a good angle to bandage the wound, before another sasaeng pounced on the easy targets.

Jin stood in front of them all, bow at the ready, but when a particularly nasty sasaeng broke out from the melee and turned towards the four of them, Jacq watched as he reached for his quiver only to return empty-handed. His first instinct was to search his body for the two daggers he kept latched to his waist, but he had used them earlier and they lay discarded several feet away.  _ Too far.  _

Jacq saw the recognition of the dire situation flash across Jin’s face as he turned back and met her eyes briefly before looking at Monica. The girl was oblivious to the danger, trying to hold Hoseok steady, his eyes squeezed shut and his lips drawn into a thin line. He was clearly holding back a scream as Monica poured some absinthe on the gaping wound. Only Jacq caught the look of regret on Jin’s face as he turned back to the charging sasaeng and braced himself, sinking into a defensive position. 

Jacq threw forward the barriers of her mind, trying to conjure up enough energy to shield Jin. Power crumpling, she clutched her bomb and ran towards him, not sure what her plan was - but she had to do something. She couldn’t let this beautiful idiot die in front of her while she did  _ nothing _ .

The sasaeng reached Jin before Jacq was even remotely close, and she couldn’t help the scream of his name that fell from her lips even as a small blur collided with the sasaeng seconds before it reached Jin. 

_ Yoongi. _

Yoongi had come out of nowhere, gripping his tomahawk in his hands. Jacq had never realized how small he was - he was taller than her, but next to this abnormal mass he looked tiny. _ Frail. _ The massive creature charged her friend, attention torn temporarily from Jin, who now bolted to grab his dagger.

Hoseok, noticing the danger, dragged himself to his feet only to immediately collapse back onto Monica, who lowered him to the ground again, unable to support his weight. Blood seeped out of his half-applied bandage.

The others in the room were preoccupied with their own sasaeng problems, and Jacq searched desperately for a weapon, any weapon, besides this fucking bomb that would only serve the purpose of killing every living thing in the room. She felt incredibly useless without her powers. 

Yoongi tussled with the sasaeng, but it had size and momentum on its side. It reached for him with its grotesque hands, only stopping to let out a huge howl when Jin stabbed it in the back with his tiny dagger. The creature lurched back into him, knocking him on his ass and causing him to lose the blade in its back. Jin backed away hurriedly on the ground until he collided with the bar top, the creature hovering over him. Yoongi took the opportunity to leap onto its back, struggling to jab his tomahawk into its neck. It raised its long arms to try and rip him off; he dodged one, but the other managed to grip his right calf and drag him from its back.

“Yoongi!” Jin shouted, struggling to stand, but the sasaeng slammed its other arm into him. It sent him flying into the bar counter, his head ricocheting off the marble top with a resounding  _ crack _ . 

The sasaeng held Yoongi up in the air by his calf. The man slashed out at the hand gripping his leg with his small blade in a desperate attempt to free himself. Jacq’s eyes finally settled on one of Hoseok’s discarded twin blades, and she lifted it off the ground. It was heavier than she thought and she could barely lift it even with two hands, but she dragged it towards the sasaeng regardless.

“Jacq!” Yoongi shouted. She stopped and looked up at her bomb-making friend, her confidant, the only boy she had really bonded with the last few weeks. 

“Stop,” He shouted down at her. “You’re going to get hurt!”

Jacq didn’t really give a fuck whether or not she got hurt - she ran to the saesang despite Yoongi’s wishes, using both hands to swing the blade up and ram it into the creatures side. Black goo spurted from the wound and the creature howled, releasing Yoongi from its grasp. He hit the ground hard, momentarily stunned, the air knocked out of him.

The creature turned to Jacq. 

“Shitshitshitshitshit,” She chanted, abandoning her weapon and running back to the previous security she’d had behind the bar. 

The creature ripped the blade from its side and descended on Jacq, blood gushing from the wound. Yoongi, alert once again, paused, aimed, and released his tomahawk. It embedded itself in the creature's neck. He scooped up Hoseok’s blade and charged the sasaeng as Jacq reached the bartop and swung around just in time to see it feign weakness and grab Yoongi by the throat, ramming him into the ground with an obscene amount of force. 

“Yoongi!” She screamed, running back out from behind the bar, the world descending into slow motion. Yoongi turned his head as much as he could, the creature’s bare teeth inches from his face, one hand tightening on his throat. He met Jacq’s eyes, a small smile pulling at the edges of his lips, his face serenely calm. Jacq screamed again, bolting towards him, arms outstretched as the sasaeng lifted its other grotesque claw and buried it into Yoongi’s chest. 

_ Yoongi! _

She remembered the screams, only to realize later that they were coming from her. The sasaeng ripped apart Yoongi’s chest in a matter of seconds, using its teeth to seek out the vital organs in his chest. The man probably didn’t even feel any pain, his heart decimated in a matter of seconds. 

_ Yoongi. _

Bored with the stillness of the body, the creature turned towards Jacq, Yoongi’s blood dripping from its claws and mouth. Her screaming had stopped, horrible convulsions wracked her body, shock setting in as she sunk to the bloodstained floor. She squeezed her eyes shut, reaching desperately for her power, trying to manifest something.  _ Anything. _

Nothing. 

_ Yoongi, I’m sorry. _

Jacq felt a stirring in the base of her mind and her eyes shot open. _ What the . . . ?  _ A tendril of power reached tentatively out, pushing against her mental boundaries. Jacq had never felt anything remotely like this before, even when she reached out to Taehyung to get more power. 

Glancing around the chaos she found Taehyung’s gaze penetrating her from across the room. Jacq felt the connection at the base of her spine, like an electric shock. She lowered her mental wards, letting him in. His raw power infiltrated her senses and Jacq struggled to funnel it, feeling her power boot back up.

Breaking contact with Jacq, Taehyung’s eyes found Yoongi’s destroyed body. Jacq gripped her head as the presence in her mind strengthened its chokehold. She could  _ feel  _ his grief. The boy across the room let out a gut-wrenching sound and the foundation of the building began to shake. His power was overtaking her and Jacq crawled to the bartop, unable to find her balance. She squeezed her eyes shut, focusing on channeling his powering, tying him back to earth as he threw back his head and howled. 

A blinding light filled the room. Jacq squinted towards where she had last seen Taehyung, covering her eyes with her arm. He was emanating pure power, manifesting itself in the form of light. Jacq lifted her hand in front of her only to realize that she was  _ also  _ glowing. 

_ What the fuck? _

The sasaeng that had murdered Yoongi began to melt, a horrifying sound like metal on metal coming from its body as the light penetrated it's dark form, melting it from the inside out. Around the room, she could see her friends searching for cover as Taehyung stretched out his arms, power radiating from his body. 

_ It’s destroying him,  _ Jacq realized with a sinking feeling. Taehyung was losing control and her family was caught in the crossfire. 

Jacq could make out Alyssa and Namjoon crouched near the center of the room. Namjoon was covering Alyssa as best as he could, his arms wrapped around her body, his head squeezed into her shoulder. Jacq could see how strongly Alyssa was clutching onto him from across the room, her fingers digging into his back. 

Nearby, Jimin hunched behind a loveseat, covering his head with his hands. Black and red blood splattered his shirt and a thought in the back of Jacq’s mind briefly registered that he was hurt. The thick cloud of shock that filtered her brain made thinking hard. Jungkook was holding Madi against his chest, his back against the wall behind Jimin. Madi’s still form caused a new layer of panic to bubble in Jacq’s gut. How many more would they lose today?

The light was becoming unbearable, and Jacq squinted at Taehyung. The sasaengs were gone and she knew her friends were next. Jacq reached out, taking more and more of his power and channeling it, grounding it. 

Behind her, Monica watched. Her eyes wide from where she sat, crouched next to Hoseok. She had never seen anything like this. What was happening? 

After what felt like an eternity - but may have been just a few minutes later - Jacq felt the room begin to darken. Her power washed over the presence in her mind, soothing it as Taehyung retreated back to himself. Jacq blinked a few times to adjust them to the darkness of the room and took in the scene before her.

The sasaengs were decimated. Puddles of ooze were splattered across the room and walls. No more screeches or rumbles could be heard. In fact, the room was unearthly silent. Even the thunder outside seemed to have ceased. Jacq did a quick scan of the room. Everyone seemed to be accounted for, but she couldn’t place the conditions of Madi and Jin. 

Across the room, Taehyung wobbled and fell to his knees, the experience leaving him utterly drained. Namjoon lifted his head from where it rested against Alyssa’s shoulder, gently brushing back her hair as she unfolded from beneath his arms, seemingly unscathed. Jimin slowly rose and ran to check on the fallen Taehyung. 

Jacq ran to Yoongi, feeling for a pulse against his neck,  _ anything _ to signal that he could possibly still be saved. His skin was cold to the touch and his face had a blue-ish tint to it. He almost looked like he was in a peaceful slumber - if you disregarded the gaping hole in his chest. She let out a sob, collapsing onto the body of her friend, clutching his shredded shirt. 

“I’m so-sorry,” She sobbed. “I’m so sorry.”

She felt hands on her back, rubbing soothing circles, and then strong arms lifting her off the body before the world became too much and she let the darkness overtake her.

  
  



	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a lil bit of steaminess in this chapter so buckle up and get ready for a wild ride.

Yoongi’s death hit the group like a sledgehammer through a cabinet of fine china. Until now, the group had largely remained unscathed throughout their travels. They had thought of themselves as largely untouchable, immortal. 

They didn’t think that way anymore. 

When Madi finally awoke, an unbearable pain throbbed in her left shoulder, making movement close to impossible. She struggled to break past the barrier of sleep, blinking away the grogginess in her eyes and attempting to wiggle free of her sheet confines, despite the agony. 

“Hey, hey - don’t sit up, you’re going to break open your stitches.” A familiar male voice greeted her, invading her hazy mind. Warm, sensitive hands found her back and stomach, gently lowering her bruised body back onto the stiff mattress. She groaned softly, wishing for death. Madi turned her heavy head to meet the gaze of her caretaker, and Jungkook’s soft brown eyes greeted her in return. 

He looked exhausted. The dark circles under his eyes looked as though they had been tattooed there, and his hair was a tangled mess. His usual carefree attitude was replaced with a solemn expression that Madi had never witnessed before, even when he was focusing on learning a new fight routine. 

“Kook?” Madi rasped, trying to find her voice. Her throat was raw from screaming, and she coughed harshly. Jungkook grabbed a glass of water from the bedside table and brought it to her lips, cradling the back of her head in his hand and tilting the water forward. Madi tried to move her arm, but the pain in her upper body forced her into stillness as she gratefully gulped down the room temperature liquid. “What happened?”

Returning the glass to the table, Jungkook struggled to find the words to explain the events of the battle to Madi. With Madi unconscious, he hadn’t really had time to properly process the fact that Yoongi was really gone. Jungkook kept expecting to find him in the lab, laughing with Jacq, or in the lounge ragging on his friends. He had been such a huge part of Jungkook’s life for so long; his absence didn’t feel real. 

Madi, sensing Jungkook’s hesitation, lept on it. “Jungkook: What. Happened.”

He met her eyes, struggling to keep his composure as he pushed the memories from his mind.

“Yoongi’s dead.”

Madi sucked in a breath. She could tell something bad had happened from Jungkook’s initial behavior, but she hadn’t expected this. A death? Jesus. She met Jungkook’s eyes and was taken aback by the raw grief displayed there. She thought of her friends, and how she would feel if one of them had been taken from her.  _ _

_ Thank God, it wasn’t one of my friends.  _

The guilt at the thought was immediate and she tore her eyes from Jungkook’s, slamming the thought into the recesses of her mind.

_ What the fuck is wrong with me? How could I think that? _

Jungkook reached a hand out to take Madi’s, misreading her reaction and seeking to comfort her, but she jerked away, hoping he hadn’t seen the sick relief she felt that it was Yoongi and not one of the girls. 

_ I’m a monster.  _

“Madi, I know it’s a lot to absorb,” Jungkook whispered. If he was hurt by her rejection, he didn’t show it. 

She shook her head, trying to clear it. “I don’t understand how this could happen. We were holding our own.”

“We lost control. You got hurt and more Sasaengs stormed into that room and, God,” Jungkook covered his face with his hands. “I don’t even know when the battle turned against us, but it did. One minute, he was there. Fighting, breathing. And the next . . .”

Madi finally met his eyes. “Jungkook. I am so, so sorry. If I hadn’t-”

“Don’t say that. Don’t blame yourself. It wouldn’t have changed anything. We were doomed from the start.” 

Madi opened her mouth to respond, to try to offer some small form of consolation, but the door to her room squeaked open, and Madi glanced over to see a worried Alyssa peeking in. 

“Madi, you’re awake, thank God.” Alyssa glided into the room and crouched next to the bed. She was holding a sandwich, which she handed to Jungkook, who mumbled a brief thanks and eagerly dug in. Madi wondered how long he had been standing vigil over her. “God, Madi, you had us so worried. How do you feel?”

“Not great, I can’t move the left side of my body.”

“Yeah well you nearly lost your arm so. . . “

“That would have been fucking awesome.” Alyssa shot her a look. 

“Monica did the best she could. You don’t have any signs of infection yet, but it’s still early. It’s going to be a slow healing process.” Jungkook said, in-between bites. “You’re going to have to be confined to this bed for awhile.”

Madi groaned and stared at the ceiling. _ “Great.”  _

“It’s fine, I can just read to you some excerpts from Jacq’s fanfiction stash.” Alyssa remarked. 

“I would literally rather die.” 

* * *

Things Taehyung didn’t understand:

  1. Why cows laid down in a circle before it rained. 
  2. How Jin always managed to have seemingly flawless skin and hair in the apocalypse. (Did he make a deal with the devil that Taehyung was unaware about? Where could Taehyung go to make said deal with devil?)
  3. What the fuck was going on with him and Jacq and these weird ass powers they seemed connected with.

Things Taehyung  _ did  _ understand:

  1. That you wipe front to back. (He learned that one the hard way.)
  2. That despite everything, he thought this magic made him way sexier and totally would have been a badass trick to whip out on Weekly Idol or some shit, pre-apocalypse. (Total chick magnet.)
  3. That Yoongi was dead. 

The last one hit him like a ton of bricks, honestly. Using so much energy had made him to black out after the battle. He awoke to Jimin, a blubbering mess, explaining burial plans for Yoongi. Honestly, Taehyung was able to find a bit of comfort in the fact that the battle had drained so much of his energy, because he was sure he would have lost control during the burial, and God knows he wouldn’t have been able to contain it.

If he even  _ did  _ contain it.

If the battle was any indication, Taehyung had a sinking suspicion that he may never be able to control his power. Jacq did. He remembered being on the brink of control, the power burning through him, fueled by his rage and melting his insides. But, after meeting her eyes across the room something  _ clicked _ . She was able to funnel it, direct it, onto the Sasaengs, and soothe it back into the recesses of his body. He was horrified by the thought of what may have happened to both him and his friends if she hadn’t alleviated that surge of energy.

_ What the fuck? _

He had to find Jacq.

He had to figure out whatever shit they had gotten themselves into. 

***

Jacq was no stranger to death. None of them were, really, if you considered the fact that their families had been MIA for years. Not that they had really given up hope, but you had to think about the odds eventually. She’d had a huge family before the war and they were fairly close so, consequently, she’d been to her fair share of funerals. 

This one was different, in many ways. For one, this was a friend, not an older relative that she only saw a few times a year. This was someone that she had spent long hours with in the lab, laughing and goofing off. He was also one of the only boys she had  _ really _ connected with. Don’t get her wrong, she was friendly with all of them, but Yoongi was different. He was so easy to talk to, and they shared so many interests and opinions. She didn’t really know how she was supposed to feel.

So, in an effort to meet her grief head-on and work through her feelings (she had gotten this idea from Alyssa, typically Jacq found avoidance of her feelings to be her number one strategy), she was writing about it. It, meaning  _ everything _ . How she met him, their friendship (albeit brief), his death. Which brought her to Taehyung. 

Everything, it seemed, was bringing her to Taehyung.

Jacq screeched and crumpled up the paper, missing her laptop, which had finally died a few years back from all the tabs she’d left open. Every time she took her mind back to Yoongi’s death to process it, she couldn’t stop herself from remembering what happened after. Taehyung’s power entering her, burning her mind. His presence overwhelming her senses, her desperate attempt to funnel it away from her friends and onto their enemies. She had never felt anything like it.

A brisk knock on her bedroom door drew her from her thoughts. The door swung open before she’d had a chance to respond, and Taehyung stood in the doorway, backlit by the gas hallway lights. He was wearing a baggy t-shirt and athletic pants, but his feet were bare and he stepped nervously from foot to foot in her doorway. 

“We need to talk.”

Jacq stared at him, taken aback by his sudden intrusion. She bit back a sassy retort about him, of all people, appreciating the knock as a request for permission rather than announcing an entrance, and let out a sigh.

“Yeah, I guess we do.”

Taehyung took that as an invitation and waltzed into the room. He looked around awkwardly before finally settling himself on the old chair she used mostly for clothes storage. She just kind of threw them on there, who gave a shit about wrinkly clothing in the apocalypse?

“I take it I don’t have to explain what this is about?” Taehyung started, tugging on his thumbs.

She stared at him. “Why the  _ fuck _ would you have to explain what this is about?”

“I just didn’t want you to get the wrong idea and for me to have to like, let you down easy or whatever.”

She stared at him for a minute, eyebrow raised.  _ Is he serious?  _ “Taehyung, I can definitely tell you - with confidence - that I am harboring absolutely no feelings for you whatsoever. In fact, you are the  _ last  _ person in this base whom I would  _ ever  _ have a crush on.”

“Well, damn, you don’t have to be so mean about it.”

She glared at him. “We are just accidently partners in magic, or whatever you want to call it, masturbation boy.”

“Aha!” He exclaimed, pointing at her. “So you  _ did  _ feel a connection!” 

“Did I ever say I  _ didn’t  _ feel a connection?”

“Well, we haven’t talked about it yet, and I just wasn’t sure if I was imagining it or not.” 

“Taehyung, Yoongi  _ died.  _ The magic thing, albeit huge, hasn’t really been high on my priority list.”

Taehyung nodded. “Yeah, I know . . . I guess I just don’t know how to handle all of this.” 

Jacq did not want to talk about Yoongi. It was too painful and honestly, she didn’t feel close enough to Taehyung to want to offer up any insight to her feelings, so she chose to change the subject back to the purpose of his visit. “Okay, magic. I’ve had some time to think about it, and I think I can suss out what I  _ think _ happened. How about I relay it to you, and you tell me if it makes sense?”

Taehyung nodded.

“Okay, so to start: I think that you have some weird freaky strong power in you that you can’t control and know zero to nothing about. Right?”

Taehyung thought for a minute. “Yeah, I’d say that about sums it up.”

“Well, during the battle I think, Yoongi’s-” Jacq coughed, quietly. “-uh, I think . . . Yoongi’s death . .. triggered the power. Hard.” 

Taehyung nodded, again. 

“And that power was overwhelming you, and so when you looked at me, something triggered. I don’t know what, but it was like there was this dam in my mind and you were knocking on it, asking permission to enter. When I opened it, just a little, I  _ felt  _ your power wash over me. It was unreal, Taehyung, I have  _ never  _ felt that much  _ raw  _ power. Never.”

“Yeah,” Taehyung agreed eagerly. “That sounds right. And that brings me to my point which is: What the fuck?” 

“Honestly, I don’t have any answers for you. I asked Namjoon to look into it and he mentioned that it reminded him of stories he had read, folklore of type, pre-war that had to do with pairs of people who dealt with power similar to this. They seemed to  _ feed  _ off each other, one person having this uncontrollable raw power that could only be filtered and contained by the other.”

Jacq paused to see how Taehyung was taking her revelation. He was just staring at her with those big doe eyes. “Taehyung, do you understand what I’m saying?”

“ . . .Yeah, I think. You balance out . . my power? Like, without you, I’d just burn from the inside out?”

“I mean yeah, probably. I think you may also be a kind of . . . how do I put this . . . a power  _ sucker _ as well.”

Now it was Taehyung’s turn to raise an eyebrow. “What the fuck does that mean?”

“Before you came here, I had power of my own. Granted, it was never at your level, but I had feelings about things that were going to happen and I could project my mental shields to protect the base. I can’t do that anymore but, correct me if I’m wrong,  _ you  _ weren’t this powerful when you weren’t here. Nothing like this has ever happened to you before, right?”

“No.”

“Well, I think something got triggered when we were brought together. You seemed to have  _ taken  _ my energy without me knowing and molded it to your own. It made you more powerful.”

“How do I make it stop?”

“I don’t know. Were going to have to practice, or something, to try and figure this shit out.”

Taehyung looked away and ran a hand through his hair. It was getting long and his bangs fell over his eyes. “How do we  _ practice  _ this?”

“I don’t know, but we should start in the next few days. Who knows when the Sasaengs are going to come back.” 

* * *

Monica found Alyssa in the library, exactly where she figured she’d be. The girl had retreated to the books after Yoongi’s death, choosing to deal with the loss by prepping for another attack. Open books and discarded papers littered the corner she was residing in, and Monica gently stepped over the plans on her search.

“Alyssa?” She said softly, trying not to startle her. Alyssa turned to look at her friend, and offered a weak smile in response.

“How’s everyone doing?”

“Well, Madi’s injury is still clean, and Jin’s head wound is no cause for concern. Hoseok’s would be better if he would stand still for a minute but-” Monica gestured vaguely “- I guess it makes sense that he’s uneasy, considering his best friend is six feet under the forest floor right now.” 

Alyssa flinched. “Yeah. Makes sense.” 

Monica sunk into a loveseat near the other girl. “Alyssa, we need to talk about resources. We are seriously running low.”

“I know. But we can’t make any runs right now with the base so unstable.” Alyssa replied. “We can’t spare the people, and who knows if or when the Sasaengs are going to return.” 

“We’re low on antibiotics and painkillers. Madi’s stable, but the wound is still pretty bad. She could turn at any minute, and I don’t know if I could help her. Fighting infection, both for her and Hoseok, as well as the countless other minor wounds I’m servicing should be our top priority. Plus, I don’t know if you’d know anything about this but - both Madi and Hoseok were  _ bit  _ by those things. Do we know if that has any ill side effects?” 

Alyssa toyed with her hair, biting on her lower lip. “I don’t know. I can look into it. Are they displaying any weird symptoms?”

“Not currently but the wounds do  _ look  _ a little weird. . . “

“How so?”

“They’re tinged with a black - purplish substance. They appear to be healing but. . . “

“What the fuck? That’s alarming. Okay, we need to figure this out.” Alyssa knew Monica was right about needing to find more medicine, but Madi was her ideal partner when it came to things like this. Honestly, the girls had even been dragging Jungkook with them for longer runs because he was like a wall of brute force when it came to lifting heavy stuff, and a small consolation if they happened to run into any Sasaengs. 

Monica, sensing Alyssa’s hesitation, attempted to offer support. “I could always come with-”

Alyssa shook her head. “I appreciate the offer, but other than identifying drugs, you’re essentially useless outside of this base.”

Monica shrugged. “You right.”

“And so is Jacq, so that eliminates you two. The injured are out, obviously which really just leaves Jimin or Taehyung. We all know what great company Jimin can be when he doesn’t want to do something.” 

Monica grimaced. “Eh, I don’t know about Taehyung, either. He’s got some freaky magic shit going on with Jacq right now.”

“Oh, yeah, what  _ was  _ that?”

“I don’t ask questions. But you’re forgetting about Namjoon. What’s he doing?”

Alyssa thought for a minute. “I don’t know. Irritating someone, probably.”

“But you know you can work with him, and he has a good mind for remembering the names of medications.”

“An underestimated talent, truly,” Alyssa sighed. “I guess I’ll ask him.”

  
***  
  


Namjoon was, in fact, irritating someone when Alyssa found him. He had cornered Jimin in a rarely used hallway, and appeared to be drilling him for post-apocalyptic fashion advice.

“Okay, Jimin, what about  _ this  _ overcoat, with  _ this  _ turtleneck?” Namjoon held the clothes on the hanger against his body. Jimin looked ready to die.

“Namjoon, I don’t know how many times I have to tell you that you’re hopeless and have no taste.”

“I do  _ too _ have taste. Who frequented the most art museums pre-war?”

“Ah, ah, I think the phrase you’re looking for is who  _ posted _ about the most art museums pre-war?”

“Hey guys.” Alyssa said, causing both men to jump. They hadn’t heard her approach, light on her feet as always. Jimin laid a hand over his heart dramatically.

“Jesus, Alyssa. Give a man a heart attack, why don’t you?” 

“It wouldn’t be the first time.” The men stared at her, eyes wide. “Kidding. I was kidding. I have given zero men physical heart attacks.”

“That doesn’t inspire much confidence.” Namjoon retorted. “But, regardless, you are interrupting a very important conversation.”

Jimin mouthed the words ‘ _ save me _ ’ and Alyssa held back a laugh.

“Actually, I was hoping I could talk to you, Namjoon.”

Jimin threw back his head “Thank. God. And at that, I will be taking my leave. Alyssa,” He saluted her “- you are a hero and Namjoon,” He looked Namjoon up and down “-  _ you _ are hopeless. Farewell.” Jimin was gone before Namjoon could even process what had happened and he stared after him forlornly, rejected turtleneck in hand.

“I-” He turned to Alyssa. “ _ What?” _

“Um, excuse me, don’t give me that. I have actual important shit to ask you and it’s not like you were  _ busy.”  _

Namjoon sighed and hung the shirt on a nearby door handle. “Okay, what’s up?” 

“We’re low on antibiotics.”

“Shit, how low?”

“I don’t know exact numbers, but Monica seems concerned and that, in turn, makes me concerned.”

Namjoon nodded, sucking on his lower lip. “I’d say that’s valid, considering she’s our makeshift doctor. So go on a run.”

“I would, but Madi’s injured and I need to go to the outskirts of the city, since we’ve cleared out all of the nearby stores. It’ll probably be a few days trip.”

Namjoon finally caught on to what she was asking and eyed her carefully. “And you’re coming to me because you want me to come with you.”

“Well, you’re my only option, really.”

He glared at her. “Wow. Flattering.”

“Look, Namjoon, will you do it?” She looked at him, earnestly and he pretended to ponder the idea for a minute even though he would have done whatever she asked, no questions asked. 

“I’d love to. When do we leave?”

“Now.”

* * *

Jacq was worried about Hoseok. After the battle, he had retreated to his room and she hadn’t seen him in days. She wasn’t sure if he was eating, sleeping. Strange noises emanated from his room; sawing, drilling. She didn’t even know he  _ knew  _ how to use power tools. Honestly, that thought alone scared her enough to make her want to break down the door. 

Occasionally Jacq would find evidence of life outside his door. A washer here, oil grease there. It only served to raise more questions. 

_ What the fuck was he doing? _

In a moment of weakness, she cornered Taehyung outside one brisk fall morning. He was trying to work on their tether magic, as they had come to call it, but to no avail. He sat, his back to her, trying to meditate or whatever he did when he couldn’t put his hands down his pants due to a public setting. 

“Taehyung!” She shouted across the field, causing him to jump. 

He twisted to look at her, shooting her an annoyed look. “ _ What?!”  _

“Don’t give me that. Have you seen Hoseok lately?”

He thought for a minute. “No. . . but honestly after all that happened I think it’s normal-”

Jacq shook her head at him, “No, no, that’s not what concerns me. What concerns me is that no one seems to have seen him in what feels like days, and there are strange noises coming from his room.”

Taehyung raised an eyebrow at her, his eyes taking on a mischievous glint. “What  _ kind  _ of strange noises?”

“You disgust me.”

He shrugged. “It’s a valid question. He is, in fact, a young man. And young men have  _ needs,  _ Jacq.”

“Not  _ those  _ noises, you pervert. It sounds like he’s . . . I don’t know. . .  _ building  _ something.”

“Building something? I love him, but Hosoek’s kind of an idiot.”

“I  _ know _ .” Jacq said, exasperated. She collapsed onto the ground next to Taehyung. “That’s why I’m worried. What if he hurts himself?”

“Ah come on, Jacq, he’s not a child.”

She shot him a doubtful look. “Remember that time, with the scissors?”

Taehyung looked out across the dewy field. “Ah, I see your point.” 

“Do you mind checking in on him for me?” 

“Why don’t you do it? He’s more likely to let you in.”

“I’ve already tried.” Jacq groaned. “He just sort of ignored me and ran a saw or whatever to drown out my knocks. I figured, since you have the-” She motioned at Taehyung abstractly and he raised his eyebrows at her. “- raw power or whatever, you could just kind of-”

“Blow the lock off the door?”

“I mean, in a gentler, more ‘ _ we care about you and are worried _ ’ kind of way, yeah.” 

Taehyung thought for a minute. “Ah, what the fuck, sure. I don’t have anything else to do today.”

* * *

“Jin?” Monica called into the dark room. Although the group was dealing with the loss of Yoongi in their own ways, they still needed to eat. She had given Jin the past few days off but now she  _ really _ needed his help. There were some items that he had put away that try as she might, she couldn’t seem to find anywhere. That, and she was exhausted from trying to tend to everyone’s wounds  _ and _ cook them three meals a day. With so many hurt and the others just trying to keep the place running, she needed Jin’s help. She followed the smell of grief and desperation (AKA used beauty products and empty soju bottles) to a deserted lounge in a corner of the base the group rarely ventured.

“Jin?” She called out again, pushing open the door. The smell of alcohol accosted her nostrils and she coughed, trying desperately to cover her nose. Her hand fumbled against the wall, searching for a light switch. Finally finding one, she flipped it up and bright light filled the room, along with a shriek from what she hoped was Jin.

Sure enough, she saw his dark-haired head pop up from the floor over by the bar. His hair was askew, skin pale, eyes red-rimmed. Empty bottles of liquor riddled the floor around him. 

“In the words so tactfully put by our ancestors before us: Monica, what the fuck?” He croaked, his throat raw from the consistent alcohol assault. 

She made her way across the room to him, careful to side-step his debris. “Jin, God, you look awful.”

“You really know how to charm a man.”

She crouched down next to him, her earlier mission forgotten, and looked at him. Really looked at him. Yoongi’s death had destroyed the group. Everyone was grieving in their own way and it appeared that Jin’s way was smothering his problems in alcohol. 

“Do you need some water?”

“No, I don’t want to sober up.” His hair was plastered to his forehead, the alcohol causing him to sweat. Monica had never seen him look so disheveled. “Soberness just brings back reality. And reality  _ sucks _ .”

“You can’t run forever, Jin. Eventually you need to come to terms with the fact that Yoongi’s dead.” She felt the bite in her words and immediately regretted the harshness of her tone but she couldn’t stand to see him like this. So destroyed. 

Jin shook his head and reached for a half full bottle of soju, bringing it to his lips. “It’s my fault, Monica.”

“What?” 

“ . . .Yoongi’s death. If I hadn’t been so weak, if I’d been a better fighter I could hav-”

“I’m gonna stop you right there. Jin, I was there. I  _ saw  _ how bad things were. There is  _ absolutely  _ nothing more you could have done. He knew the risks.”

“No one was asking him to die for this.”

“None of us want to die for this. None of us asked for World War Three, but here we are. You know I would tell you if I even remotely thought this could be your fault. I don’t hold back on this shit.”

Jin finished the bottle of soju and stared at it. “I appreciate the sentiment, and it’s not that I don’t believe you, it’s just that I can’t seem to get the moments before his death out of my mind. There may not have been anything else I could have done in that second, but there are things I could have done before it.” Jin traced the bottles edge, examining each curve of the label. “I could have practiced my hand to hand combat. I could have made more of an effort to hang out with him, focus less on myself. I could have played basketball with him when he asked-” Jin choked out a drunk sob and Monica felt like she should look away, give him some privacy, but she couldn’t bring herself to. Usually, this sort of raw emotion made her incredibly uncomfortable, but something about Jin demanded her attention. 

“I’ve been a terrible friend, Monica. I’m selfish, stubborn, irritable-”

“Jin, stop, you’re being too hard on yourself.”

He looked at her, the alcohol flushed out his complexion and even though he looked (and smelled) terrible, Monica had to admit, he was still startlingly beautiful. His gaze fell to her lips and Monica stirred, uncomfortable under his gaze.

“Kiss me,” He demanded. 

Monica was taken aback. “Wha-why?”

“Because I need a distraction right now, Monica. Literally anything to get my mind off this, even if only for a second.”

_ Well, he’s nothing if not flattering.  _ “No!”

He tilted his head at her. “Do I disgust you that much, Monica?”

“I mean,  _ yeah,  _ but it’s just-”

“Monica, please. I know you well enough to know that this won’t hurt our friendship. Please, help me.” 

He was right. If there was one thing that Monica was familiar with, it was friends with benefits.  _ I guess it couldn’t hurt.  _

He leaned towards her, and Monica pushed the smell of alcohol off her mind. She briefly wondered if she should stop this - she was the sober one after all - but it was too late, he was too close. Monica’s eyes flew shut as he brushed his lips against her jawline, silently asking permission. He furthered the action down her jaw, towards her mouth. 

When he finally pressed his lips against hers, Monica was taken aback by how warm they were. She could taste the soju he had been so eagerly drowning himself in moments before, and within seconds he had deepened the kiss, mouth open, his tongue eagerly laving against her lips. She opened her mouth in response, giving him access.

It was hurried and sloppy and absolutely not chaste in anyway. Monica was  _ thriving _ . In only a few minutes, Jin had completely eliminated any reservations she had about the situation, and she gave in to his every suggestion. It had been so long since she had touched someone that she felt her body respond to his advances almost immediately. The apocalypse was a huge cockblock, let me tell you. 

Jin kept assaulting her mouth with his own, moving closer and closer, bracing himself on steady arms on either side of Monica’s hips. She wrapped her hands around his neck to keep from slamming backwards as he slowly pushed her back onto the ground, wedging his knee between her legs and flush against her covered core.

On her back, Jin hovering over her, Monica could process little else than the feeling of his lips against hers, his pelvis pressing down with  _ just the right amount _ of pressure, grinding slowly. She moaned lewdly as he took her bottom lip between his teeth and tugged, grinning wickedly as she tightened her legs around his thigh and rutted against him, eager to alleviate the building pressure. 

“Careful, Monica, one might think you were enjoying this.”

“Shut up,” She said, pulling his head back down to hers.

Jin broke the kiss and traced his lips down the column of her throat, stopping to pay special attention to her collarbone, sucking and tugging on the tender skin, leaving marks she knew she would find tomorrow. His hands deftly freed the top buttons of her shirt, and he moved his lips to focus on the valley between her breasts. Monica let out a silent  _ thank you _ to whatever force had let her put on her sexy bralette today. 

Jin abruptly stopped and Monica looked down at him, ready to ask him what was going on, but her words caught in her throat when she saw his expression. His full lips, flushed and swollen, were slightly parted. Soft pants made Monica’s core throb with the thought of what those lips could feel like on  _ other  _ things. His pupils were dilated, his eyes half-closed, the picture of a boy who was confident in his abilities in the bedroom. 

_ Jesus Christ, he’s beautiful. _

Monica wasn’t sure why she was just coming to this realization, but it struck her hard. How had she not noticed him before? How could she overlook the softness of those lips, or the slope of his jawline? For just this one minute, she could push aside how frustratingly annoying he could be and she wanted to feel him, all of him, against her aching body. 

Jin seemed to read her mind, and let out a lazy grin before lowering his lips to breast, maintaining eye contact with Monica the whole way down. He teased her for a few seconds, gently hovering over the soft flesh of the exposed part of her breast before pressing his lips down, using only the lightest amount of pressure. Bracing himself on one elbow, he traced his other hand up the curves of her waist before taking her other breast in his hand and gently massaging it, thumb brushing against the covered nipple, before peppering open mouthed kisses on the other.

In only a few minutes, he had her unwound. She was gasping loudly now as he resumed the rhythmic grinding of his hips, and she responded with her own, matching his tempo as she rutted against his rock hard thigh. They were a mess. He freed the breast that his mouth was on from the flimsy bralette material and took her nipple into his mouth, teasing her with teeth and tongue. She could feel the growing bulge in his pants, pressing against her lower stomach as he rubbed into her, increasing his speed even more. 

Both were so caught up in each other that they didn’t hear the door open until a voice broke out over the open room.

“Jesus Christ, go to one of the numerous bedrooms in this fucking place, no one wants to see that when they’re on the hunt for booze.”

Jin bolted upright, immediately covering Monica’s exposed left tit with his hand as he pulled her top back into place and turned to meet the incomer. Monica sat up to look over, sure they must have looked terrible and fucked out.

Jimin stood in the doorway, arms crossed, a damp towel in one hand, grinning like a mad man who’d just discovered that all his deepest, darkest conspiracy theories were real. 

“Jimin, get out!” Jin growled.

“Why? You know I like a show as much as the next person.” 

Monica could feel her face growing red as she untangled herself from around Jin’s thighs, ignoring the wetness in her panties, and stood up. 

“Well, I think that’s the cue for dinner, if you’ll excuse me.” She quickly made a beeline for the door, and Jimin scooted to the side to let her out. 

When she was gone, Jin glared at him.

“Really, Jimin? What the fuck.”

Jimin walked into the room and kicked one of the empty bottles. “You are too fucked up for that man. Don’t complicate things. You’ll thank me later.” And with that, he tossed the damp towel in his hand to Jin. “Wash up, you smell like a Hooters on Superbowl night.”

“What an extremely American reference.”

Jimin shrugged. “I watched  _ The Blind Side _ that one time.” He began to walk out of the room before turning back to Jin. “And Jin, if you like her, maybe try hooking up with her sober next time? Everyone’s over fuck boys in the apocalypse, dude.” 

Jin sat on the ground for a minute after he left, wallowing in his own self pity, and rock hard dick. He could still taste Monica on his lips, and the erection in his pants was definitely a testament to his attraction to her. For a few brief moments, he had been able to push Yoongi from his mind. Did he like Monica? He wasn’t sure. But he was sure of one thing: he fully intended to repeat the experience. 

* * *

“Hoseok, open the damn door or I swear to God I am going to blood magic the  _ shit  _ out of you!” 

Taehyung had been knocking for what felt like  _ hours.  _ In actuality, it was probably about three minutes.

Mid-knock, the door swung inward and Hoseok’s exhausted face poked out, careful not to open the door wide enough for Taehyung to get a peek inside. Taehyung stared at him in shock, surprised that the blood magic threat had actually worked.

“You rang?” Hoseok asked.

“Uh, yeah, dude what the fuck? What have you been doing? No one’s seen you in days.”

“I’ve been busy.”

“Doing  _ what?” _

“Building something.”

Taehyung scoffed. “Yeah  _ right.  _ We both know you can’t build anything.”

Hoseok raised an eyebrow and withdrew his head from the door, beginning to push it closed again. 

“Hey, hey hey-” Taehyung stuck his foot in the door before it could fully shut. “Hoseok, I’m not kidding: what are you doing?”

“You’ll think it’s stupid.”

“No, I promise I won’t. Please, just let me in. It’s not healthy to deal with loss alone.” 

Hoseok froze, his eyes glassed over and for a terrifying second, Taehyung was afraid he would start to cry. “I don’t want to talk about it, Tae.”

“Okay, we don’t have to talk about it. Just please, let me in. Jacq’s really worried.”

At that, Hoseok perked up minutely. “Jacq sent you?”

“Yeah, she’s really worried that you’re not eating.” 

To his surprise, Hoseok swung open the door, granting him access, and Taehyung stepped into the room. It was a mad man’s disaster. Oil grease covered the walls, various bolts and tools lay scattered around the room, spare metal parts littered the floor - and in the middle of the room, well; in the middle of the room was what appeared to be a metal male mannequin. Taehyung knew it was male because it had a cylindrical metal penis attached to its waist, and a black-haired wig on its head. Taehyung was speechless.

“Well?” Hoseok asked. “What do you think?”

“I . . .uh. . . what the  _ fuck?”  _ Taehyung sputtered, not sure how to react.

“It’s a robot!” Hoseok announced, gleefully.

“I can see that. But  _ why?” _

“Well, after Yoongi died, I couldn’t comprehend anything,” Hoseok’s early glee was replaced with something darker and Taehyung felt bad for pushing the boy for a brief moment. “It was like all the happiness had been sucked out of my life. I had to  _ do  _ something,  _ make  _ something. Something that mattered.”

“And this,” Taehyung gestured to the horrifying creature. “mattered?” 

“He-”

“ _ He?”  _ Taehyung snorted.

Hoseok shot him a dirty look. “Yes,  _ he  _ will. Once I get him operational.” 

“I don’t even want to know what that entails.”

Hoseok gave him a sheepish smile and sat down on his bed. “Ideally, I’d like him to help out around the base. Clean, offer support to whoever needs him, y’know. Sort of like Vision from the Avengers.”

“Ew, what the fuck, no. We don’t need a Vision.”

“Why not, that would be fucking cool!” 

Taehyung rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Look, Hoseok, I think you need to get out of this room. Clearly you are having some kind of break down-”

“I am not! Taehyung, you don’t understand!”

“No, I don’t. I don’t know why you’re building this monstrosity. I get it, your best friend died and you miss him, but you should be out there, talking with us, actual  _ people  _ who are alive and grieving as well. This is ridiculous and quite frankly, it’s one of the ugliest things I’ve ever seen.” 

Hoseok was fuming. He glared at Taehyung, his eyes piercing the younger man’s. Taehyung wasn’t sure he had ever seen Hobi so mad, but he felt the older boy needed an intervention, and he was never really one for tact. 

“Get out.”

“No. You have to come with me.”

“No, I’m going to finish him. Get out of my room.”

When Taehyung made no move to exit, Hoseok burst into action and shoved the boy towards the door.

“Don’t. Touch. Me.” Taehyung felt his power at the bottom of his mind begin to stir, in response to his growing anger.

“Then get out.”

“No.”

Hoseok moved to shove Taehyung again and Taehyung  _ felt  _ the power pop. “I said, don’t TOUCH ME.” In a flash of light, power radiated off Taehyung, and Hoseok covered his head with his arms. A deep rumble flew out across the base, and Taehyung felt the entire foundation shake, like a small earthquake. It was over in an instant, and Taehyung immediately rushed over to the older boy, anger dissolved.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry, Hoseok - are you okay?” 

Hoseok nodded and looked up at him. “Yeah, I’m fine. Was that your magic?”

“Yeah, I think so. I tend to lose control whenever my anger flares up.”

“That’s fucking weird. What is causing that to happen? What even  _ is _ blood magic?”

“I think I can help with that,” A deep voice said, and both boys looked around searching for the owner of the new voice. 

“What the-” Taehyung began as his eyes fell upon the speaker.

It was Hoseok’s robot. The magic flare must have affected him in ways nobody could have anticipated, because he wasn’t a robot anymore. Or at least, not in a physical way. He resembled a lean, young asian man, with seamless skin and a flawless smile. He was physically perfect in every way. Nothing of the mechanical creature Taehyung had seen before remained on him. He was also butt ass naked, metal cylindrical dick was all flesh now, let me tell you. 

“Greetings,” The robot chirped out. “How can I assist you?”

“He lives.” Hoseok said, wide-eyed and in awe of his own glorious creation.

“Calm down, Dr. Frankenstein. We have no clue what we’ve created.” 

* * *

The group was jarred from their daily activities when the earthquake shook through the base. 

Monica rushed over to Madi’s room to ensure the girl was safe. As usual her guardian, Jungkook, was already there. They had assembled a wheelchair out of an old recliner so that she didn’t have to be bed bound completely, and Jungkook helped her lift the girl onto the chair, just in case they needed to evacuate the base.

Everyone except for Alyssa and Namjoon, who had literally  _ just  _ left on their mission, gathered into the living room to do a quick status check.

“Is everyone okay?” Jacq asked, doing a quick headcount. The group murmured their assent. “Where are Taehyung and Hoseok?”

When no one answered, Jacq was preparing to run back into the base, but Taehyung burst into the room, hands up in mock surrender.

“Everyone calm down, it’s okay. The earthquake was me. My bad.”

“What do you mean the  _ earthquake was you?” _ Jacq demanded.

Taehyung rubbed the back of his neck, sheepishly. “Well, uh, I may have gotten-” he pinched his fingers together “-a  _ smidge _ bit angry at Hoseok and unleashed just a  _ little  _ bit of power.”

Jacq looked like she wanted to strangle him. Everyone else stared at him, mouth agape. 

“Besides,” Taehyung exclaimed. “The earthquake is the  _ least  _ of our problems.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” Madi asked, from her ghetto wheelchair. 

At that moment, Hoseok entered the room, followed by his new sexy robot. Taehyung and Hoseok had clothed him in a pair of Namjoon’s joggers and a t-shirt. The robot was way taller than the two of them, and it was the only clothes they could find to fit him. He waved awkwardly at the group, and Taehyung facepalmed. The group stared at the robot in a wide array of emotions ranging from questioning to fear - and a little bit of hard lust. 

“Everyone,” Hoseok announced, extending an arm to the robot. “Meet: Life After Yoongi. But you can just call him L.A.Y.” 

It was like a bomb went off in the room.

“Where the  _ fuck _ did he come from?” Jacq asked. 

“Well, I uh . . . I built him.” Hoseok answered awkwardly.

“What do you mean you _ built him _ ? That’s a man.” Monica squinted at L.A.Y as if to confirm that he was, in fact, human.

“Well, he’s a robot. A robot that I was building to help us with chores around the base and then Taehyung sort of . . . .brought him to life?” It came out like a question because the group was just staring at Hoseok. To be honest, not the reaction he was hoping for. He figured they’d be just as excited as he was with the unveiling of L.A.Y. 

“I’m the sheep BAAAA.” L.A.Y blurted, and Jin jumped.

“He speaks.” Jin said, looking around wide-eyed. 

“He still has some kinks I have to work out.” Hoseok rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “But I think that he can help a lot around the base.”

“So . . . it’s not human. It’s a robot?” Monica asked again. Hoseok nodded. “Does it eat? Because we’re already low on-”

“I do not eat the kind of food that you do, Monica.” Lay addressed her directly, causing the girl to shift uncomfortably under his attention. “I prefer to dine on oil and other chemical products.”

“Well, I guess we have plenty of those.”

The room dissolved into chatter as Jin approached Lay to compare physical looks, and Jacq immediately bombarded Taehyung and Hoseok with questions. 

“Do we just like, let this happen?” Monica asked Jimin, who shrugged unsympathetically.

“I mean, Alyssa and Namjoon left, so we’re like chickens with our heads cut off here. I say let Hoseok keep his upgraded sex doll.” 

Monica snorted and shook her head as Jimin made his way over to inspect the new addition. Lay, it seemed, was enjoying the attention and smiled unabashedly, only letting out the occasional ‘ _ Baa’ _ .

“I can’t believe I’m gonna fuck that robot.” Madi murmured, sucking on her lower lip. Jungkook, who was sitting beside her, shot her a disgusted look. 

“Madi, literally no one is asking you to fuck that robot.”

“Doesn’t mean I’m not gonna.” 

Jungkook followed her hungry gaze to Lay and wondered what she saw in the creature. I mean sure, Lay was the epitome of male perfection, but he wasn’t  _ that  _ good looking. Was that really the kind of guy Madi was into? Jungkook snorted. 

As the group welcomed Lay as one of their own, they all lay unaware of the danger that was brewing outside and the struggles that they would soon face in the future. 

  
  



	8. Chapter 8

Alyssa tugged her jacket further around herself in an effort to try and stay warm. Namjoon and her had been on the road for about half a day, and the cold autumn wind was beginning to creep into her bones. The only sound on the deserted street was the clop of the horses’ hooves as they slowly made their way to the outskirts of the city. They wouldn’t begin to check stores until they were well outside of their normal barrier, in hopes of finding somewhere that hadn’t been raided yet. 

Namjoon rode beside her in companionable silence. They hadn’t spoken much since leaving the base. Actually, now that Alyssa thought about it, they hadn’t spoken much since Yoongi died. 

I mean, what could you say to someone when their best friend was brutally murdered in front of them? 

Nothing. 

Namjoon abruptly brought Kesha to a halt, drawing Alyssa from her thoughts. He scanned the surrounding buildings cautiously. 

“What is it?”

He shook his head. “Nothing. I just . . . thought I heard something.”

Alyssa glanced at the demolished buildings, looking for signs of Sasaengs. When nothing happened after a few minutes, Namjoon urged Kesha forward and Alyssa followed suit. Namjoon had become a considerably better horseman since coming to the base. Which was good, because with their living friends in such bad shape, they had no time to lose. 

She stared at the back of his head, slightly bent as he leaned forward into the late afternoon light. She had recently found herself observing Namjoon more. She wasn’t sure when it started, but she discovered that he was the one she sought in the crowd when controversial topics were approached, to see his reaction. She would study the lines of his body, the slope of his nose down to his full lips. Now, the slope of his shoulders conveyed tension, and Alyssa struggled to find a way to address the elephant in the room, to see if he needed to talk - but she couldn’t seem to find the words. 

They only made it a few feet before something large and dark burst in front of Alyssa and collided with Namjoon, throwing him from Kesha’s back. 

“Namjoon!” Alyssa screamed, leaping from George Washington. A series of horrible screeches emanated from the surrounding buildings and the horses, spooked by the chaos, bolted and in a few seconds, were out of sight. 

Before she could fully process what was happening, Alyssa was pulling her katana from her belt and leaping onto the Sasaeng that had unhorsed Namjoon. He was holding it up with his arms as it lunged for his exposed throat, screeching erratically. Alyssa kicked the creature hard in the side, causing it to lose balance and tumble off Namjoon, before she drove her blade into its throat and made quick work of removing its head. 

Satisfied with the moist puddle it had become, she crouched next to Namjoon, running her hands over his body, searching for wounds. He groaned loudly. 

“Ow,” He muttered. “Not quite how I wanted to start the trip.” 

Alyssa’s hands collided with a dark, warm liquid and she lifted her hand from Namjoon’s arm to discover it was drenched in sticky blood. Namjoon stared at her in surprise. 

“Is that mine?”

“Oh my God, Namjoon your  _ arm. _ ” 

He looked down at his forearm, which now sported a nasty gash roughly the size of his palm, and raised an eyebrow, as if confused as to what it was. 

“Is it weird that I don’t feel any pain?”

“I guess, you’re in shock. I don’t know how long it’s going to last though, and the horses ran off with the kit and-” Alyssa hadn’t noticed that she’d been gesturing out her panic and Namjoon gently grabbed her arms. 

“I’m fine, it’s superficial. Tis but a scratch. It’s a flesh wound.”

“Don’t quote Monty Python to me, it’s bleeding like a motherfucker.” 

Sasaeng screams rang out and dark shapes began to emerge from the neighboring buildings, reminding Alyssa that the danger was far from over. 

“We need to move.” She said, using her blade to rip off a piece of Namjoon’s t-shirt.

“Hey! I liked that shirt,” He complained, and Alyssa glared at him as she tied the scrap tight around his upper bicep, hopefully slowing the bleeding.

“This shirt is disgusting and I, for one, am happy to see it go.”

“You people are really cramping my style,” Namjoon muttered as Alyssa tugged him to his feet. He moaned dramatically and she elbowed him in his side. Hard. Namjoon looked appalled. 

“Alyssa, I am literally gushing blood and you just  _ hit- _ ”

“Namjoon, we have bigger worries right now than your  _ flesh wound! _ ” She said, scanning the buildings for both the enemy and an escape route. Their packs and backup weapons were all on the horses. She had her sword and a small satchel she had on her person at the time, and Namjoon was armed as well, but that was it. They were relatively helpless in the face of so many Sasaengs, and too far from home to retreat. Fan- _ fucking _ -tastic. 

Dark shapes began to manifest in the windows of the buildings across the street, and Alyssa scanned the sidewalk for a sign - any sign - that one of these buildings would provide a safe haven for them.

“What’s a Motel 6?” Namjoon asked. 

_ Bingo. _

Locating the entrance, Alyssa shoved Namjoon towards the motel, much to his dismay. The Sasaengs began to expel from the nearby buildings and charge the duo. Namjoon, with his freakishly long legs, covered the ground quicker than her and pulled open the motel door just in time for Alyssa to stumble inside before he slammed the door shut behind them. 

They quickly pulled a brochure cabinet in front of the door and then paused to take in their surroundings. The lobby was overgrown with vines, and the furniture was covered in thick layers of dust. Broken bottles and shattered glass littered the floor. Abandoned needles from those who hoped to find their own solace from the war were left scattered around the room, and Alyssa hoped they wouldn’t run into any dead druggies. Or worse,  _ live  _ druggies. 

She darted to the counter and began to pull open drawers. This motel looked old enough that they  _ may _ still have hard keys instead of cards. Sure enough, her eyes landed on a case of room keys, and she grabbed a handful for the third floor, not sure what condition the rooms would be in, so may as well take them all. The Saesangs had finally figured out that their prey had retreated to the motel, and they screeched loudly as they began to scratch and throw themselves against the door. 

“These’ll do, let’s get upstairs.” Alyssa said. 

Namjoon didn’t have to be told twice, and he ran to the stairwell, taking the stairs a few at a time, Alyssa hot on his heels. When they reached the third story, they found themselves in a long hallway with a multitude of different branches.  _ Fuck, which way? _ Normally, hotels had signs that indicated which path to take for which room numbers, but apparently the owners of this shitty motel literally did not give a singular fuck, since the signs were nowhere to be found.

A crash downstairs followed by shrieks of Sasaeng glee meant that their temporary sanctuary was gone: the Sasaengs were inside. Namjoon grabbed her elbow and pulled her to the end of the hall and down a series of winding paths. Alyssa fumbled with the keys, trying to determine which ones would go with which doors.  _ 314, 316, 31- Ah! _

“Namjoon, stop! Here.” She tugged a key off the ring and inserted it into the rusty lock. The Sasengs were in the stairwell now; their shrieks sent shivers down her spine, but she struggled to focus. With some desperate finagling, the key slid into place, but wouldn’t twist. 

“Fuck!” She exclaimed, slamming her hand against the wall.

“Here, give it to me.” Namjoon pushed her aside and twisted the key. After pulling it out slightly and turning left instead of right, the key clicked and the door squeaked open. 

“Oh, thank God,” Alyssa said. Namjoon pulled her into the room and shut the door behind them. The Sasaengs screeched as they began to descend upon the hallways, searching for the duo. Namjoon immediately ran to the dresser against one wall to push it in front of the door. Seeing the big ass floor-to-ceiling windows on the other side of the room, Alyssa threw her weight against the nearby wardrobe to slide it in front of them, just in case. If they were quiet, they could probably wait out the Sasaengs. The creatures had little patience, and as long as they couldn’t figure out which room Alyssa and Namjoon were in, they would be safe. Hypothetically. 

Namjoon gave one final shove to the dresser as it slid into place in front of the door. He collapsed against it with a groan and looked over to Alyssa. She was pushing the old wardrobe against the window, completely blocking out the setting sun. His eyes traced her figure as she pushed the wardrobe. He wondered what it would feel like, to run his hands over her waist, down her back . . . . Alyssa swung around, satisfied with the placement of the wardrobe, and he quickly averted his eyes, pushing the thoughts from his mind and rubbing the back of his neck in an effort to try and not look like he was thinking dirty thoughts. The Sasaengs outside were still howling, frustrated with losing their prey. Alyssa made her way over to him and crouched beside him. 

“Can I?” She gestured to his injured arm. Nodding, he offered his arm to her and she took it in both hands, running her fingers along the edge of the wound. Namjoon gritted his teeth, and leaned his head against the dresser. 

“Namjoon, we need to stitch this up.” He met her eyes and nodded. “Can you get yourself to the bathroom? I’m going to see if I have anything in this bag.”

He dragged himself to his feet and shuffled his way to the bathroom. The adrenaline was starting to wear off, and his arm was  _ throbbing _ . 

Alyssa poured out the contents of her satchel on the ground, silently praying that she had had the foresight to put some kind of emergency first aid in here. She sifted through the numerous chapstick containers, eyedrops, and tampons until her eyes settled on some alcohol wipes. 

“Thank God.” She whispered as she located some gauze and clothing thread.  _ This will have to do. _ She placed the items on the counter next to Namjoon, who looked at them in shock. 

“ _ You’re  _ going to sew me up?” He knew how squeamish she could be, despite her knack for killing things. 

“Well who the fuck else is going to do it, Namjoon?” 

His mouth opened as if to debate her point, and then closed again.

“That’s what I thought.” She retorted. “I’m gonna to see if they have those baby alcohols.” 

Alyssa darted to the desk and sifted through the drawers until aha - she found four baby bottles of vodka. She carried them back to Namjoon, who was staring at her like an idiot.

“What are those for?”

“What do you think?” Alyssa broke open the seals on the four shots and handed them to him. “Drink. It’s going to make this a lot easier.” 

He took a shot. He grasped the second before eyeing her warily.

“You’re not going to take advantage of me if I get drunk?”

Alyssa rolled her eyes. “Namjoon, you are the  _ last _ person I want to take advantage of.” Namjoon tossed back the shot, trying to ignore the sting of her rejection. “If I was going to take advantage of  _ anyone _ , it would be Jungkook.”

Namjoon choked on the liquid, nearly spraying it across the tiny bathroom, and coughed loudly before eyeing her. _ “Jungkook? Really?” _

Alyssa shrugged and shot him a smirk as she threaded the needle that she had dipped in the third shot. “He’s got a cute butt.”

“ _ He’s got a cute butt, _ ” Namjoon mimicked as he threw back the third shot. “You disgust me. He’s too young for you anyway.”

“Who says I don’t have a noona kink?”

“Oh my  _ God, _ just give me the last shot, I can’t take this anymore.” He grabbed the final shot from the counter and tossed it back. “I hope I get an infection and die.”

“Be careful what you wish for, this is a Motel 6. Who knows what kind of bodily fluids are all over this bathroom.” Alyssa, satisfied with her threading, motioned to the bathtub. “Can you get in there? That way you won’t fall over if you pass out.”

Namjoon shot her a dirty look, but didn’t complain as he moved off the toilet seat and lay down in the tub, extending his arm with a hiss under his breath. She could see the Asian glow settling in on his features, and knew that in a few minutes his arm would have numbed up significantly. 

Grabbing an alcohol wipe, she wrapped her fingers around his wrist. “Namjoon?” She said softly. He met her eyes, surprised by the sudden sincerity in her tone. “This is going to hurt pretty bad. Do you need like a pillow or something?”

“Why?”

“Because if you’re loud, you’re going to lead the Sasaengs right to us.”

“Please, Alyssa, I’m a  _ man _ . I don’t need-”

She gently pressed the alcohol down on his wound.

“Holy FUCK, that FUCKIN’ HURTS!” Namjoon shouted, jerking away from her grasp and cowering on one side of the bathroom. “OWW.” 

“You were saying?” Alyssa responded dryly. 

“You just shocked me, that’s all. I’ll be ready this time.” He shook out his hand and reluctantly relinquished it back to Alyssa’s grasp. 

“Are you sure?”

He nodded and she lowered the wipe to his arm once more. This time, Namjoon  _ did  _ manage to stay quiet, but only because his other arm shot out across his lap and grabbed the hand she was using to hold his arm steady. She stared at him in shock, but his head was tilted back, eyes glued to the ceiling as he focused on breathing in through the nose and out through the mouth. His grip was strong, but not unbearable, as she finished cleaning the wound. 

“Namjoon, I’m going to need you to let go so I can grab the needle, okay?” She gently pulled her hand from his grasp to grip the needle and thread from the counter, and made her way back to his side. His head was lolling to one side now, and she felt his forehead. Burning up.

“Are you okay?” 

“Yeah,” He murmured. “I just haven’t eaten all day, and with the wound  _ and  _ the four shots I am  _ feeling it,  _ Mr. Krabs.” 

_ Oh, God.  _

“Okay, well, hang in there. This is going to be the nasty part.” 

She grasped the area around his wound with both hands now, trying to find the angle in which to enter. She had seen this done before, but had never done it herself, and was wholly unprepared. But if she didn’t pull it closed soon, who knows what kind of nastiness would find its way into the open wound?

Namjoon, searching for comfort in his drunken state, reached across and this time gripped the first thing close enough for him to reach: her upper thigh. His hands were large enough to mostly cover the muscle, and Alyssa’s eyes whipped to his, surprised to find him lucid and staring back, as if asking permission. When she didn’t stop him, he resumed his position of head back, breathing even, and she struggled to regain composure and concentrate at the task at hand.

The threading wasn’t nearly as traumatic as she had been expecting. She was sure that the alcohol helped numb some of the pain for Namjoon, and after the initial closing she had him bandaged and set in just a few short minutes. 

Namjoon didn’t move as she finished the wrap, keeping his head back and his eyes closed.  _ Did he pass out?  _ Alyssa reached out and brushed his bangs, damp from sweat, back from his forehead, and his eyes flickered open.

“Is it over?”

“Yeah.”

“Thank you.” He murmured. The hand on her thigh loosened, but didn’t release, and his thumb began to rub lazy circles. Alyssa stiffened, unsure of how to react. His eyes were on her face, half-lidded from the alcohol, and she brought a small washcloth to his brow to wipe off the excess sweat.  _ What is this? Is this flirting?  _ She was notorious amongst the girls for being the  _ literal worst  _ at reading signs from the opposite sex. She wasn’t bold like some of the others, and had trouble approaching the topic. She remembered the conversation she’d had with Yoongi in the forest that day. The allusion that Namjoon  _ might _ be harboring feelings for her. Fuck, was  _ she  _ harboring feelings for  _ Namjoon _ ?

She shook her head.  _ No, absolutely not. _

“What?” Namjoon asked and Alyssa met his eyes. When she shook her head, Namjoon chuckled, causing his broad chest to rumble, and released his grip on her leg. “Help me out of here, would you?” 

Alyssa had no clue how she felt about Namjoon and honestly, it was the least of her concerns. They were just friends. Partners. Nothing more about it. Yoongi had been wrong and with death literally at their doorstep, she didn’t want to think about it. 

* * *

  
  
Jacq and Taehyung had been practicing for hours with nothing to show for it. Taehyung had trouble accessing his power on command and when he did manage to tap into it, Jacq couldn’t seem to connect to him like they had that day. It was like throwing a life preserver to a man lost at sea; Taeyhung would just cast out his power and Jacq would miss it every time. 

Finally, Taehyung had had enough.

“Jacq, you have got to stop being so afraid of me!”

Jacq scoffed. “I’m not afraid of you!”

He raised an eyebrow. “Really? Because everytime I actually manage to access my power, you cringe and it causes your mental wards to flare up. They are literally impenetrable. I don’t even understand how that’s possible.”

Jacq looked down at her hands. “I’m not doing it on purpose. It’s just a reflex.”

Taehyung sighed and sat down beside her. “I get it. The whole first experience wasn’t exactly ideal.”

Jacq snorted. “Yeah, you could say that. You almost burned me alive and with Yoongi - the whole thing was traumatic. My brain is probably blocking you out as a safety mechanism.”

Taehyung shrugged. “Probably safer, honestly.”

They sat in silence for a minute. Neither knowing how to continue. Surprisingly, it was Taehyung who spoke first. 

“I have an idea. How do you feel about Hoseok?”

Jacq looked at him. “What?”

“Like, do you trust him?”

“I. . . I guess? I don’t really know him that we-”

He stood up, pulling her up behind him. “Perfect, let’s ask him to help.”

“How the fuck is he going to help?”

Despite her many questions, Jacq let Taehyung take her to Hoseok’s room, where he was working on Lay. The robot was sitting on his bed, his back to the door and his back panel open, with Hoseok leaning over intently rearranging the wires.

“Hey, Hobi,” Taehyung said, causing the older boy to turn around and shoot them a smile before returning to work on the robot. 

“Hey, guys, welcome MTV to my crib.” 

The two entered his room and sat on a small work bench near the entrance. Hoseok had completely rearranged his room so that now it was mostly a fully functioning mechanic shop with only a small mattress on the floor in the furthest corner. 

“Hoseok, you know we have plenty of space. You could have just picked another room to be your workplace.” Jacq said.

Hoseok shrugged. “I started him in here, may as well finish.” He closed Lay’s back panel and gave him a pat on the back. Jacq was horrified to see that the seams of his skin seemed to heal perfectly once the panel was shut. If you didn’t already know, there was no way to tell that Lay wasn’t human. That was some  _ Alien _ shit right there. “There, all good.”

“What was wrong with him?” Taehyung asked.

“Well, for one, he kept bleating every two minutes so that was annoying. Then, he short-circuited last night - I’m not sure from what yet - but I had to figure  _ that  _ mess out.” 

“The guardian stone taught me about linguistical phenomena,” Lay announced.

“Oh?” Jacq asked. “The  _ guardian stone?”  _ She looked at Hoseok, who was absolutely beaming from ear to ear. He pointed at himself, proudly.

Lay made his way over to Taehyung and lowered into a dramatic bow. “What is up, bro? Do you want to get lit on this fine night?”

Taehyung stared at him. “Absolutely not.” 

Hoseok beamed at Lay like he was the next messiah. “He’s perfect.” 

“I am the epitome of male physical perfection, that is true.” Lay responded.

Hoseok reached for a shirt hanging in his closet and cringed, dropping his hand and clutching his shoulder.

“Is your wound okay?” Jacq asked, remembering the bite Hoseok had suffered during the battle.

“Yeah,” Hoseok said, rubbing it out. “It’s nearly completely healed, but I still get a sharp pain every now and again. It also has this really weird purplish tinge.”

“Purplish tinge?”

“This is ridiculous, it’s probably just bruising,” Taehyung snorted. “Hoseok, we need to ask you a favor.”

Hoseok raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“We need you to sit in on our training sessions and make sure Taehyung doesn’t fry my brain.” Jacq said curtly. 

“Oh, uh . . . am I qualified for this?”

“Well, you made  _ that _ .” Taehyung motioned to Lay, who beamed at them like an idiot. 

“I mean . . . sure. But I don’t know anything about magic.” Hoseok said as he handed a simple button down shirt to Lay. 

“Neither do we.” Jacq pointed out. 

“It sounds like you just need a medium to ensure that Taehyung can manage the power he sends to your mind, correct Jacqueline?” Lay spoke up, pulling on the shirt and attempting to close the buttons. “That sounds like a fairly simple task, I could help.”

The group stared at him, mouths agape. 

“No offense, Lay,” Taehyung said, all offense meant. “But what do you know about blood magic?”

Lay flashed an eerily intelligent smile to Taehyung and Jacq that made her wonder if there wasn’t something a little bit off about the android. In all honesty, they didn’t know  _ anything _ about the creature that Hoseok had accidentally created. She knew that Taehyung’s power had somehow triggered him into existence, so he must have some kind of  _ relationship  _ with blood magic. But to what extent? How much did he actually know? 

“I know a great deal about this thing you call ‘blood magic’. For starters, I wouldn’t say that 

‘Blood magic’ is a fully accurate term of description.” Lay began. “Blood magic implies that you have some control over people or their life stream, and other than emotional ties, neither of you have manifested those sort of powers.”

The group stared at him for a minute; even Hoseok seemed surprised by the sudden intelligent information that he was spouting. 

“Why  _ do _ we call it ‘blood magic’?” Taehyung whispered to Jacq. 

“I don’t know, I just did it for the bit that one time and it stuck.” Jacq responded. 

“I’m not saying we  _ can’t  _ call it that, it’s just that it isn’t a fully  _ accurate  _ depiction of what your powers really are. A more reasonable description would be source-energy relationship. Taehyung, you have this raw, unfiltered power with a seemingly endless supply but if you access it for too long, it would kill you. Jacq, that’s where you come in. Your power grounds Taehyung to this realm and helps focus his power on the areas you need it to affect, so that it doesn’t hurt anyone else besides the desired target.” Lay explained. When no one immediately answered, he smiled again. “I mean, I’m just guessing of course. We’re going to have to run some tests and see how they go to say for sure.”

“Hoseok, how did you say you made him again?” Jacq asked. 

“I just made him to help with chores. Ask Taehyung, he zapped him with his ‘endless energy’ or whatever and made him a freakin’ Fields Medal winner.” 

“I am the real MVP.” Lay announced, before turning to Hoseok. “Hoseok, I would like to learn how to throw knives now and become ‘woke’, as the kids say; is that acceptable?” 

Hoseok nodded. “Yeah, that’s fine. Sorry guys, I promised him I’d teach him how to defend himself in case the Sasaengs come back.”

“Yeah, that’s cool. Go ahead.” Jacq replied.

“Uh, am I the only one who thinks that the whole ‘giving the robot a weapon’ is a bad idea?” Taehyung asked, and Jacq shoved him. 

“Of course not, I was kidding! We definitely should  _ not  _ give the robot - android - whatever the  _ fuck _ \- a knife!”

“It’s  _ fine.  _ We need all the help we can get.” Hoseok insisted. “Come on, Lay.”

Lay met Jacq’s eyes and smiled another one of his creepy, foreboding grins and she felt a shiver run down her spine. “Of course, Creator.” 

_ God, I hope this isn’t a mistake.  _

* * *

Jungkook couldn’t stop starting at Madi. 

Not in a romantic way, but rather one of sheer disgust, because Madi was making a complete and utter fool of herself as she sat on a bench beside him. She was openly drooling over Lay, who stood a few feet away in the field practicing his knife throwing. 

Jungkook sighed. It was like watching a car accident; you just couldn’t look away. Madi was staring, mouth agape, and he was pretty sure she hadn’t blinked in about three minutes. Which, he didn’t understand. I mean, sure, Lay was picking up the moves fairly quickly with Hoseok and Jimin’s assistance, but it wasn’t  _ that  _ impressive. 

“Madi, can you at least  _ try _ to keep your mouth shut? You’ve been sitting over there panting like a bitch in heat for ten minutes.” Jungkook spat. He was trying not to let his frustration at Madi’s new obsession with the robot tamper his mood, but it was surprising how much it really irritated him.

“I just can’t get over how talented and perfect he is. Look at the way he just-” She clenched her fist, eyes never leaving Lay. “- _ throws  _ those knives.”

“It’s not even that impressive. I can throw a knife just as well.”

“Yeah, but the difference is that it took you months, and him only a few hours.” She replied pointedly. 

Jungkook crossed his arms and tried not to pout. He had just started to come to terms with the rush of feelings he felt for Madi when she was bleeding out in his arms, and here she was literally salivating over a  _ fucking robot. _ Did that robot shield her body from shrapnel in the heat of battle? Or sit next to her bed day and night for  _ days _ while she recovered? He huffed. 

“Madi, how’s your shoulder?”

Madi shrugged. “Still fucking hurts. I mean, we’re changing the gauze every day and it  _ seems  _ to be getting better. Besides the color, of course.”

“Color?” Jungkook asked. 

“Yeah, it’s almost  _ purple.  _ Not like a dark, bruised purple but like a lilac, almost.” 

Jungkook thought for a moment. “Huh. That’s odd.”

“Yeah, tell me about it.” 

After a few minutes, Madi leaned forward and rested her elbows on her thighs, cringing slightly at the discomfort. 

“What do you think sex with him is like?”

Jungkook stared at her in shock. “ _ What?” _

“With Lay.” She motioned to him. “Do you think Hoseok made sure his parts work?”

“Madi, it’s Hoseok of cour- No. You know what, how the  _ fuck  _ would I know?” 

She leaned back. “I wonder if it has settings.”

“ _ What _ has settings?” Although, he feared he already knew the answer. 

“Don’t be naive, Kookie. His  _ dick.  _ I wonder if his  _ dick  _ has settings like Robocop.”

Jungkook didn’t even know where to begin to unpack that statement, but figured he’d at least try. “Wait, you think Robocop’s dick has settings?”

She looked at him. “You don’t?” When he didn’t answer she scoffed. “You should talk with Alyssa. She has a  _ multitude _ of theories about that.” 

Jimin left Hoseok and Lay, and jogged over to where they were sitting. When he approached, Madi stood up, brushing off her thighs. 

“Well, nice chat, but I’m going to go see if I can get into RoboDick’s pants, so-” She saluted them both. “-farewell and good luck finishing with your hands, idiots.” Jimin slunk into her spot next to a dejected Jungkook. Madi made it a few feet before turning to look back at them. 

Jimin cocked his head at her, a sly smile on his lips. He thrived off other people’s romantic dramas. “Yes?”

“Do you think he ejaculates? And if he does, is it like . . . oil?” Jungkook covered his face with his hands and groaned. Madi, misinterpreting his distress as revulsion, continued. “I just mean - do you think regular condoms would work or do I need like one of those metal sleeve things that you use to wash dishes?” 

Jimin snorted. “You’re gonna need a hell of a lot of lube. That shit is going to scrape the inside of your lady pocket clean.”

Madi considered this. “Touché. Hope regular ones work.” And with that she was off to join Hoseok and Lay. Hoseok looked thrilled that Madi had joined them to offer help, and eagerly moved to the side to give her better access to Lay. 

Jungkook kept his face covered, but spread his fingers so he could watch Madi attempt to woo the robot. 

Jimin clapped him on the back roughly. “You, my young friend, have been desperately and unironically  _ friendzoned. _ ” 

Jungkook groaned again. 

* * *

Monica was avoiding Jin. She hated confronting people. It was no secret, really. She  _ especially  _ hated confronting those she had had sexual relations with. She was equally great at avoiding eye contact with genitals, and lovers who didn’t know they were ex’s yet. 

But, things were coming to a boil. With Alyssa and Namjoon gone, and the new addition of Lay, the group was a mess. No one was doing their chores, everyone wanted to spend time getting to know Lay or they were stuck in their rooms grieving over Yoongi. The group was living off four year old ramen because resources were  _ that  _ low, and she was pretty sure the boys were skipping showers to conserve water, because it smelled  _ ripe  _ in the base. She would rather die of dehydration than smell her own body odor. 

On top of it all, Jin was acting as if nothing had happened. Which would normally be fine,  _ fantastic _ even, except for Jimin. Jimin was lurking around the base like he had discovered some big, dirty secret (he had) and couldn’t wait for the most inopportune moment to bestow it on the others in the group (he couldn’t). It was because of this ticking time bomb of a man that Monica was currently seeking out Jin in the kitchen late one evening. It was long past dinner and everyone else had disappeared to their respective corners. Jin was staying late, helping to clean the dishes since Monica had cooked. 

She entered the kitchen and plopped on a stool by the island. He turned and flashed her a grin. “Already missing my company?” 

She bit back a retort. “Jin? Can we talk?” Monica hated how cliche she sounded but really, what other way was there to start a conversation like this? 

Jin, sensing the topic, groaned. “Ugh, no Monica, let’s not, really.”

Monica scrunched up her nose at his reaction. “Chill out, I’m not asking you to go steady or whatever the fuck you think.”

He paused his washing and turned to her. “Really?” 

“Yeah, I’m not one of your clingy fangirls. I don’t do relationships, especially in this day and age. You could die at any minute, and I don’t like to get attached.”

He snorted. “Have a little faith, Monica. I’ve made it this far.” 

“By sheer luck. I’ve seen you in battle.”

He shrugged. “Luck is a strategy.”

“Look, Jin,” She leaned across the counter. “I don’t know about you, but I had fun the other night. Even though you were drunk off your ass and smelled like a sorority girl during rush week.” 

Jin scrunched his eyebrows, unsure about the reference, but nodded along. “I’ll take that as a compliment . . .?”

Monica smirked. She had no idea where this confident persona came from when it came to sexual relations. She was not normally this bold in her manner of speaking, but the power made heat pool in her core. “Look, I’ll be blunt: I’ve gone too long without sex. I’m dying here. Do you want to continue this, no strings attached?”

Jin tilted his head up, biting his lip, considering. Monica felt her confidence falter for a minute.  _ Was he not as interested as I thought? _

But the second he brought his eyes back to hers, she could feel the change in his energy. She wasn’t sure if she was imagining it, but she was pretty sure her crystals were vibrating in her pocket. He was radiating power and  _ lust _ and Monica knew he was toying with her, like a cat with a mouse and she  _ loved it _ . She preened under his gaze.

Jin crossed the kitchen in seconds, his long strides bringing him to Monica before she could react. He crushed his lips to hers, inserting himself in between her legs on the small stool. She let out a small gasp at the sudden contact, her head tilted back, his hand cradling the back of her neck. 

“I take it you’re interested?” She said, pulling back from his lips and meeting his eyes, her legs wrapping around his, pinning him to her. 

“Very.” 

She smiled, knowing she had played her cards well, but her elation was short lived when she remembered the real reason for the conversation. “We need to talk about Jimin.”

Jin groaned, untangling himself from her legs. “Whyyyy?”

“Jin, everytime he sees me, he gets this shit-eating grin like he can’t wait to send my nudes to everyone in the complex.”

“That’s just Jimin, though.”

She raised an eyebrow at him. “Handle it. Or else you’re not getting this sweet puss.” 

“Literal never say that again.”

“I was trying it out. But seriously, Jin.”

He threw up his hands in surrender. “I got it, I got it. Where is the little gremlin?”

* * *

Jimin was wingmanning. It was something he thought he was particularly talented in and he took great pride in his achievements, of which there were many. I mean, he was talented at everything, let’s be honest; but this time he felt something good was happening. 

He was sitting at a bar top in one of the lounges sipping a dirty martini (extra dirty) while he watched Madi slide up next to Lay, trying desperately to get to know the robot. If there was anything to know, that is. Jimin had his suspicions about everyone, and Lay was no exception. The boy was fine, he’d give him that, but there was something fishy about his entire existence. Needless to say, this was quality entertainment. 

Or, it would be, if he could rid himself of the distraught maknae who was currently sitting next to him drowning his sorrows in a bottle of tequila. 

“Jungkook, if you care that much, why don’t you tell her? I’m sure she’d drop the robot in a heartbeat for real dick.”

Jungkook took a swig from the bottle. “I’m not even completely sure I like her. I just don’t want to see her with  _ that  _ prick.”

Jimin raised an eyebrow. “At least _ try _ to keep the jealous tone to the min. No one likes a sore loser. Besides, up until now I would have said you had this in the bag.”

Jungkook groaned. “God,I don’t know. I heard her and Jacq talking earlier and they kept saying this quote: do what you do best and hire the rest.”

Jimin looked at him. “What the fuck does that mean?”

“To hell if I know. Basically, Madi was describing to Jacq that you don’t need a man for cumming, that’s what vibrators. So-” He took a swig. “- ‘do what you do best’.”

“So what’s the hire the rest part?”  
“I don’t know. Babies?” He sighed. 

“Jungkook, you’re ridiculous.” 

“I guess Lay is gonna give her the best sex of her life or whatever since she seems to think that his dick has vibrator powers or some shit.” 

“I mean, it probably does. Hoseok made him and we all know he’s a horny motherfucker.” 

“You’re not helping.” Jungkook said. 

“Ah, grow up Jungkook.” Jimin replied. “Go tell her how you feel, or shut up. I live for drama, but not whining.”

“Speaking about telling people how they feel.” Jin said as he leaned in, his lips brushing Jimin’s ear, and the man jerked, his drink slushing onto Jungkook who only looked like he wanted to die more. 

“Jesus  _ CHRIST,  _ Jin!” Jimin shouted. “This is unacceptable, you made me spill my martini.” 

Jin let out his legendary windshield wiper laugh. “Sorry not sorry. Saw an oppurtunity and I fucking took that.”

Jimin shot him a glare as he hopped off his chair to mix another martini, successfully leaving the whining maknae to his own devices for a few minutes. Jin followed him behind the bar. 

“Look, Jimin, I came to ask you to keep what you saw between Monica and I quiet for a bit.”

Jimin snorted. “Yeah,  _ right.  _ That’s the most interesting thing to happen around here since Taehyung figured out his magic could make him cum faster. Have you seen what he did to the west wing’s gym?” Jimin poured the ingredients into a metal shaker and began to mix them. 

“That’s disgusting, but also . . . intriguing. Remind me to talk to him later. Regardless - I’m asking you as both your hyung and your friend - please keep it quiet. Her and I have agreed that we’re going to continu-”

“Woa, what?” Jimin stopped shaking the martini mixture and gave Jin his full attention. “You’re going to continue to fuck her? Didn’t you hear what I told you?”

“I mean, yeah, but I don’t think I have real feelings for her or her for me. We just wanna fuck. None of that snowflake shit like cuddling.” 

Jimin scoffed. “God, what happened to you, Kim Seokjin?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, that out of all of us, you were the most traditional, sweet guy, pre-war. You had every opportunity to end up with some nice girl and raise a nice family. You had the least baggage, were the least fucked up. What happened?”

Jin glared at Jimin. “Life happened, you fucktard, and what I do with my penis is none of your business.”

Jimin poured the martini into his glass and rolled his eyes. “Fine, Jin. Do what you want. Your dirty little secret is safe with me. But, when this blows up - and trust me, it will - and you or her develop feelings for one another and this whole complex gets pulled into your filthy little sex life - don’t come crying to me.”

Jin flashed him a wicked smile. “Thank you, Jiminie.” He twiddled his fingers at Jimin and left the room, patting Jungkook once on the back. 

Jimin sipped his martini and watched him go. Things just got  _ a lot _ more interesting. 

* * *

  
  


Alyssa awoke to Namjoon screaming. After helping him out of the tub, the two had shared a meager meal of some dried meat Alyssa had found in her bag and began to bed down for the night. 

The room was  _ freezing.  _ Their bunker had managed to keep out most of the late fall cold, but up here they were completely exposed to the elements. Jacq hadn’t been kidding when she said it was going to be a rough winter. Namjoon had graciously taken the floor and let Alyssa have the queen bed, but it had still taken hours for her to fall asleep, the only sound the gentle rhythm of Namjoon’s breathing. 

Well, she definitely wasn’t sleeping now, with Namjoon screeching beside her like a banshee on Black Friday about to get the last pair of AirPods. 

Alyssa jerked up in the bed, momentarily forgetting where she was.  _ Yoongi . . Antibiotics. . . Motel . . . 6 ?  _ Shit. 

She was off the bed in an instant, sword at the ready. Her eyes pierced the darkness, searching for Sasaengs. Seeing no imminent danger, she crouched down beside Namjoon. The sheets were tangled around his legs, and he was jerking violently (his body, not his dick). She moved next to his head, and reached out to his shoulder. 

“Namjoon, Namjoon wake up, it’s just a dream.” Alyssa shook him softly, trying to rouse him. No response. He lay there, hair plastered to his forehead, his head tossing back and forth. She felt his forehead. He was burning up. 

“Namjoon, please. Wake  _ u-”  _ Alyssa froze as his hand jerked up and gripped her wrist, hard. His eyes flew open and she froze, seeing his panic. “Ow, Namjoon, it’s just me, Alyssa.”

Namjoon sighed and released his grip. “Alys. . . I’m sorry.”

“What’s wrong? You were shouting.”

Namjoon pulled himself into a sitting position and ran a hand through his tousled hair, pushing the bangs back from his forehead. “God, I’m sorry. I thought they would stop once we left the base.”

“ _ What _ would stop?”

He looked at her and although she could barely make out his features in the darkness, she could see the grief in his expression. “My nightmares about Yoongi.”

Alyssa was taken aback. This was not the response she had thought she would get from him. Earlier, she had been wondering about the various ways she should approach the topic, and here he was bringing it up on his own. 

“What are they about?”

Namjoon sighed and looked down at his hands, fiddling with the blanket. “I think they stem from my own incompetence. About how I couldn’t save him, couldn’t be the leader the group needed. I let one of my own fall.” His hands turned over the fabric. “I failed him as a leader and a friend.”

Alyssa reached for his hands, stilling them with her own. “Namjoon, you can’t think that. It wasn’t anyone’s fault.”

“I might be able to rationalize it now, but my subconscious seems to think otherwise. I haven’t had a good night's sleep since he died.” Namjoon removed his hands from Alyssa’s and rubbed his face. The chill was beginning to creep back into the room, and now that she was out from under the blankets, goosebumps littered her arms. “I don’t know why I’m telling you this. It doesn’t matter, I’m sorry for worrying you.” 

Namjoon pulled the blanket back over himself. Alyssa, unsure of what to do, made her way back to the bed and settled under the covers. What did you say to someone after they confess something like that? How do you make it better? 

A thought came to Alyssa and she immediately pushed it down. Maybe if she let him . . .  _ No. No, fucking way.  _

But, if he had a full night’s sleep . . . .

Before she could lose her courage, she spoke out into the darkness, her voice piercing it like a warm knife through butter.

“Namjoon? Are you awake?”

After a few beats he responded, his voice scratchy from either the drinking earlier or the sleep - Alyssa couldn’t tell. “Yeah?”

“Do you want to sleep up here?” 

She could hear rustling beside the bed and rolled over to find Namjoon sitting up on the floor, his hair mussed and his eyes wide. “What?”

“Do you want to sleep up here? A) It’s fucking freezing. ) maybe having someone nearby will help your subconscious relax and you can actually sleep through the night.” Alyssa had no clue if there was any logic behind the second statement, but she had read it in a book once, so it must have  _ some _ merit. Also, she was freezing. 

Namjoon it seemed, had no reservations. He immediately piled his floor nest blankets onto the bed and lifted the blankets to slide in. Alyssa slid to the other side of the bed so he wouldn’t come into contact with her. She had shared a bed with plenty of men in the past, whether romantic or not, so it wasn’t a major deal for her, but she didn’t want to accidentally touch him just to be sure. 

Once he was settled carefully on the other side of the bed, he spoke up. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For saying it wasn’t my fault.”

She turned to find his features in the darkness. “It wasn’t.” 

“Sometimes, it’s just nice to hear someone else say it.” He turned on his side, facing away from her, and his breathing slowed to a gentle rhythm. 

Shortly after, Alyssa let the dark abyss of sleep welcome her into its arms too. 

* * *

Immediately after leaving Jimin, Jin was feeling some kind of way. It could be described as anger, but more likely it was frustration littered with guilt. Why was Jimin being a little twat? How could he act like he was all high and mighty when  _ he  _ was the one who led on the most people pre-war? He was the one always sticking his dick into numerous guys around the office and yet he had the  _ audacity -  _ Jin shook his head, trying to eliminate all thoughts of Jimin. He was on his way to the  _ one  _ person who could literally fuck all thought of that man clear out of his mind.

He pounded on the door and after a few minutes, it swung open, revealing Monica draped in a Lizzie Mcguire oversized t-shirt, no pants. 

“Jin, it’s 2am, what the fu-”

She didn’t have a chance to finish because Jin was on her like a bee to honey. He pushed his way into the room, slamming his mouth against hers. Her arms wrapped around his neck, and he leaned down to grasp her thighs and pulled her legs up so that they wrapped around his waist. 

Jin carried them across the room and pressed her against the wall, his mouth continuously assaulting her own, his tongue penetrating deeply into her warm mouth. Monica had no clue what had triggered this aggression from him, but she wasn’t in the mood to ask questions, she just needed  _ him. _

When he began to move his hips, slowly bucking into her, she could feel rock hard length through his Nike sweatpants. All that stood between actual penetration was the thin slip of fabric of her panties and his sweats. Monica was living. She swiveled her hips, rubbing her hot center against the bulge in his pants. She could feel herself growing more and more wet. Jin groaned against her mouth. 

He lifted her off the wall and threw her onto the bed before crawling over top her. Lifting the hem of her shirt, he ripped off Lizzie’s face to reveal her exposed breasts. Before Monica had time to properly react, he had attached himself to her left nipple plecostomus-style and began to slowly grind his clothed Cock against her panties. Monica arched her back as his right hand slid up her thigh and roughly cupped her moist mound, massaging broad circles. 

When he made motions to peel off her soaked panties, Monica grabbed his hand. “Hey, it’s not fair if I’m completely naked and you’re still fully clothed.”

Jin flashed her a grin and peeled off his shirt, revealing his toned abdominal muscles and sleek shoulders. Monica traced her hands over his body, memorizing each and every curve. How did someone like this  _ exist? _

Jin, it seemed, had no patience. “We can do this later, I need  _ you _ right now.” He kissed her deeply again. “I want to make you feel good, before -”

“I don’t know, I’ve never had that done before.” 

Jin looked at her. “What? Really?”

“Yeah, I’ve just never-”

“Can I?”

Monica nodded slowly as Jin peeled off her panties. He looked down at her wet and throbbing Pussy and let out a wicked smile. “Already so wrecked for me?”

Monica watched him as he lowered his lips to her folds, parting her legs to open her clamshell and reveal her luminous pearl, never breaking eye contact. It was so incredibly arousing, she felt herself beginning to seep. She could feel his breath gently caressing her mound, toying with her. When he pressed his lips to her folds again, Monica reflexively closed her legs. Jin’s strong hands whipped out to stop her thighs from crushing his face. “Ah, ah, Monica. We’re just getting started.” 

Monica moaned as he parted her wrinkle nest with his warm tongue, the muscle massaging her clit with fervor. Monica had never felt such intense pleasure. One of her hands toyed with her breast while the other slid down to find purchase in Jin’s long hair. He was relentless, his tongue rolling and pushing against her clit, his lips pushing and sucking at  _ just _ the right amount of pressure. 

“Jin, I-” His eyebrows quirked, knowing that she was close, and he increased his tempo, the pressure building in her core. He released her legs and she wrapped them around his chest as he continued his merciless assault on her clit.

When she came, she came hard. She had never cum with a partner before, and the fact that Jin had achieved it in such a short amount of time was a miracle. Monica screamed as her orgasm rolled over her, her legs clenching around Jin as his mouth muscle worked her through her orgasm. 

When she was done, she was both in awe and grateful of his extreme sexual success. He moved back up her body until he was hovering over her. 

“Well, how did I do?”

“Jin, that was  _ amazing.”  _ He grinned down at her, the picture of a dirty boy. “Can I . . . do you next?”

He looked down at her, an eyebrow raised. “ _ You _ want to suck me off? Don’t you have an awful gag reflex?” 

“No, but I can’t open my jaw all the way. It’s kind of like one of those claw toys?” Monica shrugged. It was worth a try. “Chomp chomp, if you know what I mean.”

“That’s okay, I’m not very thick, just long.” Jin was eager; he loved sticking his dick into girls’ mouths. One of his favorite hobbies. 

He raised himself up into a kneeling position and slid down the waistband of his sweats; Monica following his every move. Once he was free of the sweats, he lowered his thumbs into the hem of his briefs. Monica could see the outline of his loooong Cock, and her mouth watered. 

“Are you ready to meet Mr. Meat?” 

Monica’s brow scrunched. “Mr.  _ Meat?” _

Jin traced his cock through the thin fabric of the underwear. “It’s trademark.”

“You copyrighted the name for your  _ dick?”  _ Monica snorted.

Jin grinned down at her. “Money really can buy everything.” 

Any retort Monica might have said immediately left her mind as he pulled down his underwear, revealing his cock. He was well hung. Like,  _ really _ well hung. Monica’s jaw dropped. 

Jin took his length in his hands and pumped it a few times. Monica didn’t think it was possible, but it got  _ even bigger.  _ _ How the fuck is that going to fit inside of me? _

Jin got up from the bed and knelt down again, this time over Monica’s chest, his long member inches from her face. 

“Are you ready?” He asked. “I’ll try to be gentle.”

“No need. I’m ready.” Monica nodded and brought her hands to his dick, gripping it gently. She was breaking one of her staple rules right now, literally face to face with someone’s genitals. But, this man, this man had given her the best orgasm of her life and she was willing to let him stick his Cock into her mouth as a form of repayment. 

Monica took Jin’s Cock and led it to her mouth. As she parted her lips and swirled her tongue around his head, she felt an immense amount of pride as he gutturally groaned, head thrown back. Monica took him, inch by inch into her mouth, gently sucking and kissing his long member. 

“Monica, can I fuck your face?”

Monica was pretty sure she would vomit, something she hadn’t done in over ten years, but she wanted to please him very badly and was willing to take the risk.  _ Well, he can certainly try.  _ She nodded. 

Jin took control of his dick once more, and positioned himself so that he was hovering over her on the bed, dick floating above her mouth. 

“Open.” He demanded. 

Monica obliged and he slowly lowered his dick into her mouth. He was gentle at first, thrusting shallowly in and out of her mouth but when she swallowed, it was over. Jin groaned and began to thrust deeper, his hard Cock hitting the back of her throat.

“Fuck, Monica...”

As he increased his pace, Monica could feel her throat beginning to spasm. She gagged, lewdly around his dick, and Jin groaned again at the increase in pressure. “Yes, just like that,” He murmured as he thrusted deeper and deeper into her throat. Right as his thrusting became sporadic, he abruptly pulled out and Monica stared up at him in shock.

“What?” She asked. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No, baby,” He said as he lowered himself over her once more, their hips lining up. “I just want to feel you around me before I cum.” 

Monica grinned at him. “There are condoms in my bedside table.”

Jin reached over to open the drawer and pull out a condom. He ripped open the package and sheathed himself in just a few short moves, showing his sexual experience. He settled in between her legs, peppering kisses on her collarbone, up her neck, until he eventually found her lips. 

“Are you ready?” He asked, lining himself up with her entrance. Monica spread her legs, gate open, drawbridge down, to give him more access.

“I was born ready.” 

  
  



	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Small reminder since this story is incredibly long and surprisingly complex: 
> 
> The tree people mentioned in the first chapter come back briefly in this. Not much is known about them as a group but we'll elaborate more on them later.
> 
> Other than that, enjoy my little demons.

“Are you ready?” He asked, lining himself up with her entrance. Monica spread her legs, gate open, drawbridge down, to give him more access.

“I was born ready.” 

***

Monica was, in fact, not ready. The minute Jin began pushing into her, she was once again amazed at his incredible size. Like, holy  _ fuck, _ he was huge. His dick was literally pushing any comprehensible thoughts straight out of her mind. 

“Jeez, Monica,” Jin groaned, impaling her slowly on his monster dick. “You are so tight. I don’t think I’ve  _ ever _ been with someone so tight.” 

Monica answered by pulling his face down closer to her and covering his mouth with her own. The kisses deepened as he pushed himself further and further into her. By the time he bottomed out, she was full to the brim and ready for more. 

“Is this okay?” Jin asked, breaking the kiss to look into her eyes. Monica nodded breathlessly. 

“Fuck me.” She whispered. 

“What was that?” Jin said, a sly smirk on his lips. 

Monica glared at him. “You know what I said.”

Jin leaned down to take her earlobe into his mouth, biting it softly, before releasing it to pepper kisses along her jaw. “Maybe I want you to say it again.”

“Fuck. Me. Kim. Seok _ jin _ .” 

Jin responded instantly, pulling himself out of her slowly before rolling his hips back down and sliding in. He repeated the motion, earning himself several pleasurable groans from Monica before he set a tempo that wasn’t terribly fast, but fast enough to please her. 

“Fuck  _ yes!”  _ Monica moaned, which in turn, encouraged him to pick up pace. Each thrust was punctuated with a thick, guttural groan from Jin that made Monica’s core  _ seep _ .

Monica had never been loud before, but now she didn’t care if the whole base heard her. “Faster, Jin- Fas-”

Jin responded by slamming his thick cock into her drenched pussy at a rapid pace. Monica could feel him beginning to lose control as he chased his release. She bucked her hips up to meet his and he brought his fingers down to her clit, rubbing her rapidly in time with his thrusts. 

“You feel-” A  _ thrust _ “-so good.” Jin breathed. “I’m gonna cum in your sloppy pussy.”

And cum he did. Jin let out a primal groan as he sheathed himself as deep into Monica as he could, slowing rolling his body as the pleasurable aftershocks overtook him. 

When he was finished, he relaxed his body down on Monica and kissed her again before slowly pulling out, whipping off the condom, tying it, and tossing it into the trash. Jin got up to grab the hand towel by Monica’s bathroom, and brought it over to help her clean up, before settling into the bed beside her. 

“That was amazing.” He said, pulling her onto his chest and rubbing slow, languid circles across her stomach. 

“You were better than I thought.” Monica snickered, and Jin slapped her stomach playfully. 

“Hey, I just gave you the best orgasm of your life and don’t you forget it.” 

Monica tilted her head up to kiss him softly. “Yeah, you’re one of the better friends-with-benefits that I’ve had, that’s for sure.”

* * *

  
  


The first thing Alyssa’s brain registered as she slowly returned to consciousness was the fact that she was incredibly warm and oh-so-snug. That, and her right arm was asleep. She tried to twist slowly in bed, to alleviate the weight of her body on her arm, before she realized that she couldn’t move. Her eyes flew open and she held back a squeak when she found Namjoon’s sleeping face, inches from her own.

Namjoon had her firmly in his grasp. Sometime in the night, they both must have subconsciously moved closer together since they were no longer on their own sides of the bed but rather in the center, entwined with one another. Namjoon’s arm was secured around Alyssa’s waist, pulling her flush against his massive body. His right leg was draped over her’s, and although his shapely legs looked elegant from far away, they were _ heavy  _ when their full weight was draped over you. Boy had some  _ seriously _ thick thighs. _ _

_ Madi would freak,  _ Alyssa thought.  _ It’s like a new hip weighted blanket.  _

Alyssa slowly tried to pull her leg out from between Namjoon’s. The man responded with a soft groan and pulled her closer until their faces were literally a hair's breadth apart. 

Despite what she had previously thought was an epic force of iron will, Alyssa found herself studying the curves of his face. It was ridiculous how handsome he was when she let herself think about it. Sleeping, he looked younger. His plump lips were parted slightly, and she could see the palest five o'clock shadow forming on his upper lip from where he had shaved yesterday before their journey. The gentle arch of his cheekbones led up to the soft curve of closed eyes, long lashes curved downward and-

_ Fuck. What am I doing? _

Trying (and failing) to be as careful as possible, Alyssa slowly began to try and untangle herself from Namjoon’s grasp. She successfully dislodged her legs out from in between his and he let out a particularly loud groan, forcing her to freeze. 

Namjoon’s eyes fluttered open, meeting Alyssa’s gaze, as she was still mere inches from him. He looked shocked, and he tilted his head to see that his arm was clutching her close. One by one, she felt his deft fingers lift from her back.

“My bad.” He whispered, disentangling himself from her. 

“It’s no problem.” She responded as she sat up in the bed, trying to tame her hair. “It was freezing last night, so . . . y’know.” 

“Uh, yeah.” He slid off the bed and stretched, and Alyssa found her eyes tracing the lines of his back. He reached down to grab his jacket from the floor, and she quickly averted her gaze. “Mutual seeking of warmth.”

“Of course.” 

They both slid on their gear in silence for a few minutes, neither wanting to delve deeper into the conversation of the suspicious predicament they had woken up to. Alyssa retreated to the bathroom to gather up the spare supplies from Namjoon’s injury, sparing a few seconds to look at her absolutely wrecked appearance in the mirror. Whatever, it was the apocalypse, literally no one besides Jin looked good. 

She walked back into the main room to find Namjoon inspecting the bandage on his arm. 

“How is it?” She asked, stepping forward and taking his arm into her grasp. He looked at her, taken aback by her boldness, but didn’t move his arm. “We should change the bandage. Can I rip off more of your shirt?”

“Absolutely not!” 

She raised an eyebrow. “It’s uneven. At least now it’ll be ruined  _ and  _ balanced.

“Fine.” 

Alyssa made quick work of the other sleeve of his shirt and changed the bandage. The wound looked clean, and the bleeding had stopped. All good signs. 

“Did you sleep okay?” She asked, wrapping the fabric snugly around his cut. When she was satisfied, she helped him slide the arm into the sleeve of his jacket. He cringed at the movement, but didn’t protest.

“Yeah. It’s weird, I feel like I haven’t had that good of a night’s sleep in weeks, and I feel a lot better now.”

She looked at him seriously. The bags under his eyes  _ did _ seem lighter than they had before. That had to be a good sign. “Good. We have a hell of a day ahead of us  _ and  _ we’re going to be traveling on foot. God knows how many Sasaengs are lurking around.”

Namjoon sighed. “And I thought the worst had past.” 

* * *

Jacq was hiding from Taehyung. They had been together basically all day every day for the past week, and it was out of control. Even on the days when they weren’t training they seemed to find themselves in the same places. You ever listen to a boy talk about saxophones and then two minutes later change the conversation to whether or not Psy was a Dom?  _ That _ was what it was like talking to Kim Taehyung. She was sick of him.

Currently, the only place she could find solace was the last place he would think to look for her and the only place that seemed to weaken their magic bond: the chapel. Jacq knew that it sounded awfully suspicious and strangely devious that their magic was weakest in a place of God but hey, Satan was the one helping a sister out with the magic powers currently, so who was she to judge? Plus, God was  _ also _ helping a sister out by keeping her horny magic partner from finding her location, because if there was one thing Taehyung had sworn off, it was Jesus. 

She was writing, or trying to. She kept dozing off. Using the magic was extremely draining to her energy, and no matter how much she slept, she felt like she just couldn’t get any energy back. 

She must have dozed off again, because the next thing she knew she was jerking awake to find Hoseok sitting in the pew in front of her, staring at the altar. Sensing her consciousness, he turned to look at her and offered a small smile.

“Good morning, sunshine.”

Jacq wiped the grit from her eyes. “What time is it?”

“6:30. You just missed dinner.”

“Ugh.” Jacq readjusted in the pew. “What are you doing here?”

Hoseok looked back at the altar. “I actually find myself here a lot lately. I was never very religious, and I don’t think I am now, but I’m able to really think about Yoongi here. It makes me feel better, I guess.” 

Jacq nodded. She understood. I mean, he had only lost his friend a little less than a month ago. That wasn’t much time at all. 

“I understand.” A beat. “Hoseok, how are you doing?”

Hoseok turned to her. “Not great? I mean, I basically avoided thinking about it for the first few weeks by making Lay but now that he’s - well, now that he’s whatever  _ the fuck _ he is - I am left with nothing to distract me, and I just feel miserable all the  _ fucking time, _ and I hate it.”

“Hoseok, you need to let yourself feel this. It’s perfectly normal to not be okay.”

He shook his head slowly. “I feel like I’m barely functioning. Like there’s this haze between me and everyone else that I just can’t seem to break past. I want a break from thinking about it all the time.”

“I understand. I can’t believe he’s gone. I only knew him for a brief time, but I never felt so connected to someone so quickly.” Jacq thought for a moment. “Okay, let’s try something different. Is there anything you did prior to the war that made you feel  _ great.  _ Something that would help take your mind off of this?”

Hoseok tilted his head, staring off into space. “I don’t know, I guess . . . . dancing?” 

Jacq could have predicted that. She, for one, was a horrible dancer, but she was also a good friend and if was what he wanted . . . 

“Well, I know what we’re doing today, Ferb.” 

Hoseok stared at her. “What?”

“You’ve never seen _ Phineas and Ferb _ ?”

Hoseok cocked his head “No, what is that?” 

“You haven’t lived. We’ll go talk to Monica about it later, it’s one of her all time favorites.” Jacq stood up and exited her pew. “Come on my dude, we’re going to party.”

Half an hour later, Hoseok and Jacq were two Mike’s Hards deep and blasting some classic 2000’s jams in a lounge in the base. Hoseok was a great dancer, moving his body to the beat of the song like some sort of fallen angel moonwalking his way through life. Jacq, on the other hand, was more akin to that of a flailing angel and when in doubt for what to do, kept reverting to the Cotton Eyed Joe dance. 

“Jacq!” Hoseok laughed, taking both of her hands in his and spinning them around. “You have  _ got _ to stop doing that horrendous dance.” 

“What do you mean?” Jacq asked, taking her hands from his to continue the Cotton Eyed Joe. “Are you telling me this isn’t a classic dance move?”  
“I don’t know about the States but that is _definitely_ not something we have in Korea.” 

“Your loss.” She responded, switching up her moves to that of the Macarena. Hoseok laughed again. 

“Okay, stop, stop.” He took her hands in his as the music changed to something slower. “No more of this nonsense. Just follow me, okay?”

He guided her along the room, and Jacq hiccuped from the alcohol. Hoseok was honestly not an awful teacher and with a few guiding words and motions, they were able to dance without Jacq stomping all over his toes. 

Hoseok leaned forward and whispered gently in her ear. “Thank you.”

“Are you feeling better?”

He smiled a hollow smile. “I think it’s going to take me a long time to stop feeling so empty, but knowing that you’re here to share the grief and do things like this,” He motioned to the room around them. “ -  _ that _ helps me feel better.” 

Jacq smiled and rested her head against his solid chest. She missed the surprised look that Hoseok gave her, and the small smile that rested on his lips as he rested his chin on her head.

“I miss him too, Hoseok.” She whispered into his chest. “God, I miss him a lot.”

“I know.” Hoseok replied. “But as long as we’re together, I cling to the hope that this  _ will _ get better, and we’ll be left with only fond memories, not just the hole that he left behind.” 

* * *

Madi was doing what she normally did when she had nothing to do. And lately, she had not had a whole lot to do. Since Alyssa had left with Namjoon instead of her, she’d been dreadfully bored. Bored and frustrated that she still felt so  _ weak _ from her injuries. This fucking bite just wasn’t getting any better. The color had faded so that it wasn’t as vibrant, but it was still tender to the touch. That, and she had been getting some  _ wicked _ migraines lately. 

Whatever. She was sure it would get better.

She was in a lounge late one night when Lay found her. The lights were dimmed (bright lights made her headache worse), her shoes off and feet propped as she sifted through Jacq’s laminated fanfiction stash to see if any of it was nasty enough to turn her on. She had  _ rough  _ sexual taste and Jacq’s stuff always seemed to feature ‘healthy relationships’ - nothing like the Reylo trash she craved. Madi’s baby maker was not having it. 

“So, this is where you’ve been hiding.” 

Madi looked up from her binder to find Lay standing in the doorway to lounge. 

_ Fuck yes. _

“I thought I sensed your presence on this side of the base.” He said, sliding into the room. There was something unsettling about the way he moved. He was utterly silent. 

_ Okay, a little weird but I’ll take it.  _ “How did you ‘sense’ me?”

Lay sat down across from her and gave her a sly grin. Madi’s wound pulsed and she reached up to grip it softly, rubbing her thumb over the deepest part. The glint in Lay’s eyes unnerved her, but she brushed off the feeling, twisting her arm to alleviate some of the pain. “I just had a feeling that you’d be here. That’s all.”

_ Weird. But he’s still hot and I’m not getting anything from this binder so- _

“Do you feel attraction, Lay?”

Lay didn’t seem surprised by her question. I mean, it was no secret that Madi wanted to get in his pants, she had been practically screeching it around the base since his creation. He tilted his head, his intelligent eyes pierced her own.

“If you are asking if I have sexual urges-”

Madi nodded vigorously. 

“-then I do not, naturally.”

Madi couldn’t keep the crestfallen look from her face and dipped her head into her shoulder, hoping Lay didn’t see it. He continued, despite her reaction. 

“At least, not like your Jungkook, that is.”

Madi’s head shot up. “What?”

“I said, I don’t have sexual urges like your Jungkook.” 

“Oh no, I heard you, but you misunderstand. Jungkook’s sexual urges are not  _ my _ concern and he’s definitely not  _ mine _ .”

It was Lay’s turn to return the skeptical gaze. “Oh? I figured the two of you were mates. You are always together.”

Madi snorted. “First of all, _ ew _ . Don’t use that terminology, we’re not birds in the Amazon. Second of all, no, Jungkook and I aren’t together.” 

Lay tilted his head. “Ah, then my calculations were incorrect. I apologize. I am still getting used to the mechanics of the base. You are available for mating, then?”

Madi snorted. She was sure that he did not intend the word the way she was interpreting, but she had never heard someone use it for such a basic description of human relationships. It was quite comical. “Uh, yeah. I am not claimed and I’m available for mating.” 

Lay stood up from his seat and moved over to Madi, sitting beside her on the couch. She stared at him, wide-eyed. “Well, as I was saying before, I do not have sexual urges, but that doesn’t mean that I cannot have sex. I know that you find me attractive, and I would be willing to mate with you if you so desired.” 

_ I mean, when life hands you lemons.  _

“Do you know how to do it?” Madi asked.

“I was programmed by Hoseok, you know.” 

Ah, Hoseok. Jimin may be their resident slut, but every knows that Hoseok was equally skilled despite his sunny boy appearance. Madi could fuck with that. 

“I have many questions about your dick.”

“I know.” Lay responded. “I assure you that it works just as well as any man’s penis. In fact, I would argue that it works  _ better.” _

“We’ll see about that.” Madi encased Lay’s face in her hands and brought his lips to her own. They were softer than she expected, although she wasn’t sure  _ what _ she had been expecting. The kiss was chaste, a gentle pressure on her mouth. When she pulled back, Lay stared at her in shock.

“That was . . . different than I was expecting.” Lay said.

“Better?” 

“Yes, better.” He leaned forward and captured her mouth with his own. Madi parted her lips, deepening the kiss. She could feel the slight pressure of his tongue, tracing the outline of her mouth - not too much, but  _ just _ enough. Lay hadn’t been lying, he  _ did _ kiss well. Like,  _ really  _ well. 

They were interrupted by a loud bang as someone threw open the door to the lounge, bursting into the room. Madi and Lay broke apart to see Jungkook standing in the room, a few feet away, and a red-faced Hoseok still in the doorway, looking like he wanted desperately to unsee what he had just seen. 

_ “Really?”  _ Madi blurted. “ _ Just _ when I was getting what I wanted?” 

Jungkook glared at her. “You missed our lesson.” 

She motioned to her arm. “Haven’t you heard? I’m still crippled.”

Jungkook was fuming. His averted his gaze from her and let it land on Lay. He wasn’t sure of when the last time he had been this angry was, but what he really wanted was to  _ punch that guy. _

“Why are you two idiots in here, anyway?” Madi asked. “Can’t you see the room is  _ occupied?” _

Hoseok answered quickly, forcing Jungkook to shut the fuck up in case he said something he knew he’d  _ really _ regret. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude. I ran into Jungkook and he was looking for you and for some reason I just had a  _ feeling _ that you would be here.” Hoseok regained his composure and lifted a hand towards the android. “Hey, Lay.”

“Greetings, Creator.” 

“Wait, what kind of feeling?” Madi’s brow scrunched.

“I don’t know,” Hoseok replied. “I just felt  _ drawn _ to this room. Weird, right?”

Madi and Hoseok continued to talk about how weird it was that he knew the  _ exact _ room that Madi would be in, in this massive building. Jungkook eventually qualmed his anger and joined in, the three trying to figure out what was happening and if it had anything to do with Jacq and Taehyung’s magic. 

Lay didn’t say anything. 

* * *

“Okay, so, I’m no  _ expert,” _ Alyssa spoke up, watching Namjoon try to scale a small brick building. He insisted on climbing because the bottom floor was destroyed and covered with debris, and he thought he ‘ _ saw sweet potato chips _ ’ in the upstairs window. It was a miracle the whole structure was still standing, really. The whole first floor of the building was obliterated. “But I’m  _ pretty _ sure that brick you’re reaching for is loose, and with you not balancing the weight on the left side of your body right, you’re going to fall off, and I don’t have enough bandages for that, Namjoon. Are you  _ sure _ you’ve done this before?”

“Yes,  _ Alyssa. _ ” Namjoon grunted, shifting his weight like Alyssa had said before reaching for the brick. He didn’t know what she was talking about, it looked totally fine. “I  _ have _ bouldered before. Believe it or not, I have done some dangerous things in my life.” 

He was lying, of course; he was deathly afraid of heights and had absolutely  _ not _ done this before. Prior to the war, Namjoon was a strong advocator for doing the  _ least _ amount of dangerous things possible. He enjoyed living. 

He leaned up to grab the brick, and right when he started to pull himself up, it slid from the wall and tumbled to the ground, shattering on the concrete below, mere feet from Alyssa. He made the mistake of glancing down and was greeted with Alyssa’s horrified face staring up at him.

“I feel like now is probably a bad time to say ‘I told you so’?”

“Ha, ha.” He responded, reaching for a different brick. “You are so funny.” 

“Look, Namjoon this is a bad idea. There will be other bags of chips.” 

He got a grip on a brick and pulled himself up a bit more. “These may be the last sweet potato chips in the States. We can’t let this opportunity pass us by.” 

“For the record, I want to take this opportunity to say that I think this is a horrible idea, and that after you’re gone, I call dibs on your Off White jacket.”

Namjoon pulled himself up another few feet. “ _ Really? _ That’s what you want?”

“It’s a miracle you’ve kept it in such good condition. There’s not even any Sasaeng blood on it.” 

“That’s because I never  _ wear _ it. It’s purely for street cred.” He was close now, just a few more feet. 

“You can’t see me but I’m rolling my eyes.” Alyssa shouted up, watching his every move, hoping he wouldn’t slip up. “Who the fuck needs street cred in the apocalypse?” 

Namjoon was at the windowsill now. He quickly hoisted himself up, careful to avoid hitting his cut arm on the brick. It wasn’t hurting much anymore, mostly just sore, which he figured was a good sign. He looked down at Alyssa and waved. She grimaced, but offered a feeble wave in return. 

“You wouldn’t understand street cred because you have no style.” He shouted down.

“Look who’s talking, Sweet Potato Boy.” 

Namjoon snickered and turned around to look at the room.  _ Fuck yes, sweet potato chips.  _ He was in what appeared to be a 7/11, and quickly grabbed a cheap backpack from the shelves and began to cram snacks into it. They hadn’t had much to eat since they lost the horses and Namjoon for one, was hungry, which meant Alyssa was probably  _ starving. _ He had never met a girl who ate so freaking much. 

“Hey, Namjoon?” He heard Alyssa call his name and darted over to the window. 

“What? I’m almost done.” 

“Do you hear that?” 

_ Well, that’s never a good sign.  _

Namjoon quieted down, tilting his head forward out of the window. He  _ did  _ hear something. Not a Sasaeng, but more like a, wait . . . was that-

“Is that a baby crying?” 

“Yeah, I think so.” Alyssa responded. “Weird, right?” 

“Very.”

A beat.  _ Don’t you dare say what I think you’re goi- _

“I’m gonna go check it out.” Alyssa shouted. “It sounds like it’s literally coming from inside that building.” She pointed to the building catty corner from where they were.

_ Famous last words.  _ “Uh, can you wait for me to come down? I don’t want you to go alone.” Namjoon answered, swinging his leg over the windowsill to begin his descent. He looked down (a rookie mistake) and his stomach rolled. He was  _ way _ further up than he thought. “It’ll only be a minute.” 

Alyssa looked up at him as he began his slow crawl downward. The baby crying intensified. It’s important to note that Alyssa didn’t  _ like _ kids. Like, literally, at _ all.  _ But it sounded so damn pitiful. Maybe she was close to her period or something, but she couldn’t just  _ leave it.  _

“Namjoon, if I wait for you I’m going to be 80 and that baby is going to starve to death, this’ll only take a second.” 

“Alyssa! Don’t you  _ dare-”  _ She darted towards the building. “- ohp. And she’s gone. GodDAMMIT.” Namjoon slammed his right hand on the window. Curse his extremely bulky and clumsy body. He counted to ten slowly, took a deep breath, and began to work his way down. 

***

Alyssa followed the cries of the baby to a small apartment building, the front door blown off its hinges.  _ Never a good sign.  _ She unsheathed her blade, holding it at the ready as she entered the complex. 

The destruction looked strangely . . . . recent? Nothing like the dust covered debris they had encountered thus far on the trip. Alyssa was careful as she stepped over broken glass and around destroyed furniture. She was being so careful, in fact, that she was quite proud of herself for not screaming when she stumbled across the first body. The first  _ human  _ body. It helped that it was completely obliterated and barely distinguishable to even  _ be _ human but Alyssa could make out the form of legs and a torso; albeit the arms were completely gone.

“Literally, ew.” She muttered, stepping over the mess. 

It was only as she got deeper and the bodies started to resemble people more distinctly that she began to realize how dire the situation was. Saesangs had struck here, and they had struck recently. 

The baby’s cries didn’t stop and Alyssa slowly made her way into a small room near the back of the complex, still on the first floor. There, sitting on the ground near the demolished body of what was once a young woman, sat a small child no older than three. Even Alyssa, repulsed as she was by children, could admit that the kid was cute. It sported a mass of curly dark brown hair and deep, tan skin. It was unharmed, except for what appeared to be a small bite mark on its chubby upper arm, visible as it clung desperately to what she assumed was its mother’s arm. The woman was long gone, the entire middle section of her body obliterated, intestines half eaten and flung out of her chest cavity. Alyssa had no clue how the baby had come out generally unscathed. 

She darted across the room and scooped up the child, holding out its arm to get a better look at the wound. Yeah, it definitely looked like teeth. “Shh, shh little. . . God, I don’t know what you are. A boy?” 

The baby cried louder. 

“How the fuck do I hold a baby?” She twisted the kid in her arms, careful to avoid the wound. It screeched. “Can you please shut the fuck up?” 

A piercing cry rang out inside the building. Alyssa froze. A Sasaeng. The baby finally ceased screeching. 

“Fucking fantastic.” Alyssa muttered. “Can you stay quiet for like five minutes while I try to get us out of this mess?” She squatted on the ground with the baby and slid her bag off her back. Sliding her daggers to one side and the medical equipment on the other, she was able to make a child-sized hole, and squeezed the baby into it. “Perfect. I hope you’re not bleeding anymore, little sir, because there is no gore allowed in this bag.” 

Steady creaks began on the floorboards above Alyssa’s head, and she swung the baby bag onto her back, gripping her weapon. “Come at me, bro.” She whispered as she began to creep back the way she had come in, careful to avoid the bodies. 

She had no clue if Namjoon was off the building yet and knew that she couldn’t rely on his help in case he was too far. She was going to have to safely exit the building, baby intact, grab Namjoon, and get the fuck out of here. She had never seen a successful Sasaeng attack before, and it was safe to say that this amount of damage scared the literal shit out of her. 

She was almost to the foyer when she stopped. Something was wrong. It was silent, eerily silent. The baby was quiet on her back, doing whatever it was babies do, and the upstairs creaking and hoots had stopped. Alyssa turned back towards the way she had come from.

A least a dozen pairs of glowing Sasaeng eyes greeted her, their dark, viscous forms slithering and sliding along the floor. A small series of clicks began to resonate throughout their ranks. The baby shrieked.

“ _ Fuck  _ that.” 

Alyssa tucked her sword into its sheath and ran out of the front door. There was no way she could fend off that many alone, especially with nature’s little meat sack strapped to her back. 

She was full on bolting when she ran into the literal wall of a man, Kim Namjoon, who was waltzing down the sidewalk like Leonardo DiCaprio getting some groceries, towards the apartment building. 

“Jesus, Alyssa.” He said gripping her upper arms with his hands. It’s important to note that her collision only knocked him back a step, but her whole left side was reeling from slamming into him. He was lucky she wasn’t just running with the blade fully exposed, like she normally did. Now that she was with child, she figured she’d better start some safe practices. Namjoon froze, and looked past her at the precious cargo. “What the fuck is that?”

“It’s a  _ baby _ , Namjoon. Don’t you know anything?” She tugged on his arm, pulling him after her as she picked up a light jog away from the building. He kept pace with her easily.

“I know  _ that,  _ but why do you  _ have _ it?” 

“I told you I heard a baby crying.” 

“Yes, Alyssa.” Namjoon rubbed his face. “But I kinda figured you’d find it with its  _ family  _ or something. You can’t just  _ steal  _ someone’s baby and run away. We need to put it back where it belongs.” 

“Well, I don’t think  _ that’s  _ going to happen considering I found it next to its disemboweled mother and about a dozen hungry Sasaeng boys.” Alyssa responded, picking up her pace. Namjoon, sensing the direness in her urgency followed suit. 

“You  _ what?” _

“Honestly, Namjoon,” She started glancing over her shoulder. They were nearly a block away, and nothing was pursuing them.  _ What the fuck? _ “I don’t know why you're surprised that a crying baby in a destroyed building would not have a loving, nuclear family to take care of it.”

“I never said nuclear.” 

“You’re ridiculous.” Alyssa stopped and swung around, facing the building. “Why aren’t they following us?” 

Namjoon paused beside her, also eyeing the apartment building. “Maybe they’re full from the meals they just got? Anyway, I’m not complaining.” He looked over at Alyssa. “Is the baby heavy? Do you want me to carry it?”

Alyssa shifted the baby bag off her shoulder and gave it to Namjoon. As soon as the baby saw his face, he gurgled excitedly and clapped his hands. 

“Aww,” Namjoon said. “He’s adorable.”

Alyssa leaned in closer to the baby. “Little traitor.” She whispered. To Namjoon: “I hate babies.”

Namjoon looked at her in shock. “How can you hate babies? They’re adorable.” He poked the baby’s cheeks. “Aren’t you, you little survivor, you?” 

“I don’t understand their motives.” 

“What are you talking about? Babies don’t have motives.”

Alyssa’s eyes narrowed as Namjoon swung the baby up onto his shoulders. “Exactly.” 

Namjoon rolled his eyes and continued walking down the street. Alyssa took one last glance at the apartment building to confirm that the Sasaengs were indeed not following them, before joining him. 

***

They had been walking for about an hour, mostly in silence, before Namjoon stopped to take a break. He pulled the baby off his back, and looked at it. 

“Are babies supposed to be this quiet?” He asked, gently cradling the child. 

Alyssa stood beside him and looked down at the baby. She couldn’t explain it, but something seemed  _ off  _ about the baby. Its skin had taken on a sort of ashen complexion, and its eyes looked glossed over. Namjoon was right, the baby had barely made  _ any _ noise in the past twenty minutes, which normally would thrill Alyssa, but something was wrong.

“I don’t know. Is it hungry?” She asked. 

“Maybe? Do we have anything he can eat?” 

“What does it eat?” 

The two stared at each other for a minute. They had no clue. 

“You have nothing that the baby craves now.” A woman’s voice rang out. Alyssa immediately reached for her weapon, unsheathing it and standing in front of Namjoon and the baby. A petite, older woman exited an alleyway one street over, her hands up to show she was unarmed. As she approached, Alyssa could see scars that littered her arms, and a series of strange markings alongside them on her skin. Like tattoos, but not quite. It was the sign of the tree people, a nomadic tribe of people who traveled the country searching for peace. Alyssa had befriended some back home during the war.

“It’s okay, I mean you two no harm.” The woman said. “But that baby has different intentions.” 

“She knows its motive.” Alyssa whispered to Namjoon. He rolled his eyes.

“What do you mean by that?” He asked, standing up beside Alyssa. 

“That baby has been bitten.” She responded, stopping a few feet away from the pair. Alyssa felt Namjoon tense beside her. 

“Bitten by what?” He demanded.

The woman met Alyssa’s eyes and nodded in her direction. “The girl knows I speak the truth.”

Namjoon turned to Alyssa. A sinking feeling was building in her gut. She had seen the wound on the baby’s arm, but figured it was harmless. 

“So what?” Alyssa asked the woman. “We can clean it and patch it up. It’s not a big deal.”

The woman shook her head. “There’s nothing you can do now. That baby has Rifties. It’s a sickness, passed on by Sasaeng saliva.”

“That’s ridiculous.” Namjoon said, rocking the baby. “I’ve never heard of Rifties.” 

“In adults, the sickness takes a while to manifest, replicating and growing inside the host's body, taking over their mind. It turns you into a minion of the Sasaengs - you start hearing their voices, they make you do tasks. It’s a method for them to infiltrate our bases and destroy us from the inside.” She pointed at the baby. “And that baby has been bitten.”

“ _ That’s _ why the Sasaengs didn’t pursue us. We had one of their own with us when we left.” Alyssa remarked. 

The woman nodded. “Yes. I’m assuming they were hoping you would raise it and let it grow until he ultimately destroys you. If the sickness doesn’t kill him first, that is.”

“This is nonsense. You can’t believe this bullshit, Alyssa.” 

“Madi and Hoseok.” Alyssa looked up at Namjoon, her eyes wide. “Madi and Hoseok we’re bitten by Sasaengs on the night of Yoongi’s death. The wounds are taking forever to heal, and they keep having weird side effects. And we haven’t had  _ any _ issues with Sasaengs since the battle. Namjoon, it can’t be coincidental.” 

Namjoon’s brow furrowed and he looked at the woman. “Okay, say I believe you. How do we cure it?”

She smiled, sadly before shaking her head. “I’m sorry. There is no cure.” 

  
  



	10. Chapter 10

Madi stared at her reflection in the dimly lit bathroom. She couldn’t remember the last time she had looked this terrible. Honestly, she didn’t think she ever had. Not even when she was puking her guts up with the flu and hadn’t showered in days. Her hair was still knotted from sleep and her normally blue eyes appeared grey. Dull, lifeless. 

_ Find them. Hunt them. Hurt them. _

She shook her head, trying to clear it from the strange thoughts that had been running rampant through her mind lately. Her head emptied momentarily and she leaned in closer to the mirror, inspecting her eye bags. They had a slight greenish tinge and she cringed as her eyes traced the line of her jaw and settled on the wound peeking out from beneath her collar. 

The bite still looked nasty, even this long after the fact. She pulled her shirt down revealing the angry red scar and the slight yellow tinge that still bordered the edges. It throbbed as she poked it gently with her other hand and she made a mental note to ask Hoseok if his was still tender. Shouldn’t it be better by now? 

_ Hurt them. Hunt them. _

She shook her head again, making another note to ask him if he’d been having any strange thoughts. Thoughts that she knew weren’t her own. 

She moved from the tiny bathroom and perched herself on the small stool she kept in the room, pulling on a well loved pair of Doc Martens. The thoughts and wound weren’t the only abnormal things she had been experiencing lately. She felt like she was seeing evidence of sasaengs  _ everywhere.  _ In the corner of her eye, the darkest parts of her room late at night, the empty alcoves of the base. She had never felt so on edge. So paranoid. 

It was driving her mad. 

_ Find them. Hunt them. Hurt them.  _

Madi clutched her head, another migraine beginning to take form, the infiltrating chant rushing through her brain.

_ Hurt them. Hunt them. Find them.  _

“Shut up!” She shouted, clawing at her tangled hair, desperate to stop the voices. 

_ Hurt them. Hurt them. Hurt them. _

Mad screamed as the pain intensified until it was nearly unbearable, rendering her a helpless mass on the messy floor of her bedroom. She clawed at her head, trying to do something,  _ anything _ , to alleviate it but to no avail.

_ Hurt.  _

_ Hurt.  _

_ Hurt. _

Madi pounded at her head, the pain unbearable until she just . . . gave up. Unable to fight it anymore. The words washed over her mind, penetrating every orifice until the pain slowly ebbed away, leaving behind one thought in her infected brain. The voices hadn’t given her objects to inflict the words on, just demanded attention, but Madi knew what they wanted. Knew what they were telling her to do. 

_ Kill them. _

* * *

Monica pulled the covers over her head, trying to ignore the incessant knocking at her door. When it didn’t stop after a few minutes, she groaned.  _ God, what time is it? _ She rolled over, reaching for the old analog clock on her nightstand. 2pm. Well. 

She hurled herself out of the warm bed, dragging the comforter off with her as she grumbled her way over to the door. Unlocking it, she threw it open to find a frustrated Jacq on the other side.

“_What?” _ Monica spat. “What could be _so_ important that you have to wake me up at this _ungodly_ hour?” 

Jacq raised an eyebrow. “It’s 2pm.”

“And?” 

“How late were you up last night?”

Monica flashed back to her night with Jin, partly thinking it was all a fever dream but the pleasant soreness between her legs said otherwise. He had wanted to stay after. Give her aftercare and all that shit but Monica had shoved him out. She knew how these things worked and it was better for no real feelings to get attached in a friends with benefits situation. She had been hurt in the past and had told him upfront she was just looking for something physical. If she let him stay, let herself get attached, he would just end up leaving her in the end. 

Regardless, she knew she couldn’t tell Jacq any of this. In this close of quarters it was better to just keep it between them lest others insert themselves into the relationship. Fuck, she hadn’t really come to terms with it_ herself_. She decided to settle with the easiest answer. “Pretty late.” 

Jacq nodded, accepting the half assed answer but knowing better than to push Monica. It was no secret that she often stayed up late into the night, anyway. “Well, regardless, we have a bit of a situation.” 

Monica waved into her room. “Please, come into my office.” 

Jacq moved into the cluttered room and perched on Monica’s desk chair after moving a pile of dirty dishes. Monica was a level 7 dish hoarder which was to say, she had a fuck ton of the base’s dishes hidden away in her room. It was a miracle they had any left in the kitchen, honestly. Monica stared at her bed for a minute wondering how much of Jin’s DNA was probably all over the sheets before settling on the edge. She would need to do laundry today. 

Jacq wasted no time. “I’m worried about Madi.” 

“Why?”

“She’s acting weird.”

Monica scoffed. “Uh, that’s just Madi.” 

“No, you don’t understand.” Jacq leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. “Weirder than normal. She seems to be ill  _ all the time _ and now she has this freaky attraction to Lay-”

“She’s had that attraction to Lay since day one.” 

“No, she hasn’t. Here me out,” Jacq responded. “Sure, she thought Lay was  _ hot _ and she joked about sleeping with him but she’s  _ always _ been more into Jungkook.  _ Always. _ Before she got bit and Lay was made those two were inseparable and now . . . When was the last time you saw her with Jungkook, hm? Hell, when was the last time you saw her  _ practice? _ ” 

Monica gave a noncommittal shrug. It’s true, Madi hadn’t been doing much lately but she was recovering from a fucking  _ bite _ wound. She had almost  _ died. _ And crushes changed. I mean, sure, she was  _ really _ into Jungkook but Lay also seemed to be interested? I mean, granted, he was an android but whatever, Madi had always had kinky taste. 

Jacq leaned back, shaking her head. “I’m telling you, Monica, something’s off. More so than usual.” 

Monica pondered the thought for a minute. She did find it strange that Madi’s appetite had decreased rapidly and she appeared to always look sickly now. I mean, Madi had never had a refined palate to begin with preferring chicken nuggets and mac and cheese to any other meal but even those things couldn’t seem to rouse her into eating. “I see what you mean,” She responded finally and Jacq let out a sigh of relief.

“Thank God. I don’t know what to do from here.” 

“Well, we keep an eye on her until Alyssa gets back then the three of us can decide how best to move forward.”

Jacq nodded. “I think, whatever it is, it’s affecting Hoseok too.” 

“Oh?” Monica said. She didn’t know when Jacq had started paying enough attention to Hoseok to notice a change in his behavior. Maybe the two had grown closer after Yoongi?

“Yeah, he seems . . . different? Most distant, more pale.”

“His best friend did _ just  _ die.” 

“I know, and that’s why I’ve been trying to brush it off. But I  _ can’t.  _ Something feels  _ wrong.” _

Monica nodded. “Let’s wait for Alyssa and then we can figure it out from there. For now, let’s just see what they do.” 

* * *

“I can’t, in good conscious, murder a baby.” Namjoon said. 

“I’m not asking you to murder the child,” the woman stated. “I’m asking you to give it to me. My people and I will take care of it.”

Alyssa had a feeling she knew exactly what ‘taking care of it meant’ and judging by the look Namjoon gave her, she knew he did too. 

“I’m sorry,” she spoke up, motioning rapidly with her hands. “But I’m still on the ‘no cure thing’. How can you be positive that there isn’t a cure?” 

The woman stared at her with those big, sad eyes. She had heard Alyssa exclaim her worries about her friends to Namjoon and she knew what the couple sought. “We have lost a number of our people to Rifties. In the beginning, we didn’t know what was happening. We had heard stories, of course, of turncoats from tribes that returned home with a nasty wound in battle and demolished their home, but we didn’t believe it. Until it happened to us. It started with one young man who attacked and killed his family about a month after his bite. He was captured and taken to face his consequences in front of our chief but his mind . . . it wasn’t his own.”

“What happened to him?” Namjoon asked.

“He went to the medical ward and they tried everything in their power to stop the infection, to save him. The sickness took over his body, and with being locked up, confined and unable to fulfill his new life’s mission, the sickness devoured him from the inside out. He never recovered.”

“That doesn’t sound promising,” Alyssa quipped. 

“As usual, you are filled with burning positivity,” Namjoon sighed before turning his attention back to the woman. “What did you try?” Alyssa knew he was searching for something, anything that they could use to save their friends. She was trying to choke down her impending panic behind a layer of sharp wit and negativity. 

“The sickness takes over the mind of the victims first, creating a fever so vile nothing seems to cool them down,” the woman began her large eyes fully focused on Namjoon. Alyssa shifted her weight from foot to foot as she listened to the account. “It crowds their minds with thoughts of anger and violence, the only way to silence it is to start killing the others in the community. Each kill brings a few hours of peace. If you don’t kill, the thoughts . . .they-”

“They devour you from the inside out,” Alyssa whispered. 

The woman nodded. “So, we tried containment with the first victim. There we tried lowering his body temperature, antibiotics, pain killers, anything we could get our hands on from the pharmacies. Even a god-damn ice bath,” She sighed, shifting from foot to foot. “We’re blessed with a doctor in our tribe but nothing worked. His condition continued to worsen. We reached out to other tribes, they told us what they had tried when members of their own had fallen ill but nothing had worked so far. Without a proper way to study the disease, all facilities being destroyed in the war, the victims succumbed. Some, it took only a few months, others nearly a year. It depends on their stamina, their health,” She turned her soft brown eyes to Alyssa. “And those are the victims that were contained. If not locked up, I’ve heard stories of entire tribes getting eliminated. They may not be able to spread the illness themselves, but they can be quite crafty if they need to be and usually find a way to let sasaengs into the tribes.” 

Alyssa looked at the baby strapped to Namjoon’s back. If the disease burned through victims, taking out the healthiest adult in a year, then . . . .

She reached out to touch the sleeping baby. It was cold. 

“Namjoon . . .” 

He looked at her, hand outstretched to the infant. Seeing Alyssa’s expression, he turned his face up to the sky before nodding silently and slipping the bag off his back. He lowered it to the ground, reaching out his fingers to brush the baby’s tiny neck, feeling for a pulse he knew he wouldn’t find. 

Withdrawing his hand, eyes still glued to the child, he addressed Alyssa. “Do you want your bag back?”

“No,” she whispered.

The woman slipped a small satchel around her side and removed it carefully before handing it to Namjoon. “Here- it’s empty. I was going to put supplies in it, but you can use it to put your stuff in, if you want?” 

“Thanks,” Namjoon replied before unzipping the bag and pulling out Alyssa’s belongings and slipping them into the satchel. When he was done he laid the child flat in the bag and zipped it up. “What should we . . .?” 

“I can take him,” the woman spoke up, hand outstretched to the bag. “My people, we have a ceremony for those who have fallen to Rifties. The child deserves the same respect.” 

Alyssa crouched down next to Namjoon laying a hand on the bag. For what felt like the first time in a long time, a feeling penetrated the walls she had placed up to try and protect herself from the death that surrounded them on a day to day basis. “I’m sorry, little one,” she whispered. “I’m sorry I wasn’t fast enough.” 

After a few moments, Namjoon laid his own large hand over her smaller one wrapping his fingers through hers before lifting it off the bag and Alyssa to her feet. He pulled her into his chest, his nose brushing the back of her head before quietly whispering “It’s not your fault.” 

The woman grabbed the strap, lifting the bag onto her slender back. This trip had brought nothing but turmoil to their lives so far. Alyssa thought of Madi and Hoseok back at base and tears threatened her eyes. She didn’t want to cry in front of either of these people, despite how well she knew Namjoon, and tried to hold them back. A few escaped anyway and Namjoon gripped her tighter.

The woman stared at them both and let out a sigh. “There is one thing I didn’t tell you. Not because I’m holding out information but rather because I didn’t want to give you false hope.” 

“No worries there,” Alyssa replied, proud that her voice sounded strong and sure. “We had little hope to begin with.” 

Namjoon released his embrace, but didn’t step away from Alyssa. She didn’t move either, finding comfort in his solid presence behind her. Each of them a pillar of strength for the other.

“There is a legend,” the woman continued. “Among my people, a simple tale that has been whispered from some corner of this destroyed country that a cure for a sasaeng bite can be found only in the seed of a man not borne by woman.” 

“What the fuck?” Alyssa responded. “What does that  _ mean?  _ Why are these things always so cryptic? _ ” _

The woman shrugged. “ I don’t know. I’ve never heard of a man not borne by a woman and I’m not sure if test tube babies are a thing anymore or where to find one, that’s why I didn’t offer it up in my original explanation. It’s useless.”

The group was quiet for a few minutes before Namjoon spoke up.

“Thank you, for your help and for. . . “ he motioned to the bag. “ . . for taking the baby.” 

The woman nodded and turned to walk away before stopping herself. “If you or your people ever need anything, you can find us at the southernmost point of the city. It’s where we set up base. We are always open to new people and believe that there is a greater sense of safety in numbers.”

Alyssa doubted that, for she had seen great groups of people demolished in one night from sasaengs but she nodded anyway before turning to leave, Namjoon at her side. She made it a few steps before turning back over her shoulder at the woman clutching the dead child. “What was your name?” 

The woman gave her a sad smile, fully aware of the mess the two of them were heading back to. “Deidre.” 

***

The two made it a few blocks before either of them spoke again, taking the time to truly digest what Deidre had told them. Alyssa broke the silence first.

“What does that even mean, ‘seed of a man not borne by woman’? How does that sentence help us at all?” Alyssa’s face scrunched as she pondered the puzzle, trying to see how it could help her friend. 

Namjoon glanced at her from the side of his eye before resuming his stare at the path in front of them. “Well. . . . I mean. . . the  _ seed _ is probably the sperm of-”

“I know what the  _ seed _ part is, Namjoon,” Alyssa hissed. “I mean the ‘not borne by woman’ part. How the fuck . . . ?” She threw her hands up in the air, her voice raising. A few pigeons scattered from an old tree. “And let’s say we  _ do  _ find this mystical man. Does he have to  _ fuck _ Madi and Hoseok in order to save them?! What are we supposed to  _ do _ with said seed?”

“Maybe they just have to drink his-”

“Oh my God, Namjoon, don’t finish that statement. What the literal  _ fuck. _ ”

He shrugged. “I’m just saying. And I don’t know about Madi but I don’t think Hoseok would have any problems fucking a man. He doesn’t discriminate on a gender basis for his partners. Says he’s more of a personality guy.”

Alyssa stopped walking and plopped onto the dirty curb, head in her hands. “Jesus  _ Christ, _ what are we going to do?” 

Namjoon sighed before sinking down beside her, staring at the blown out CVS in front of them. They had finally made it to a drug store far enough out of the city that it  _ might _ be useful but the events of the day overshadowed even this accomplishment. “I say,” he started looking over at Alyssa. “We go in there, grab what we can, and head home. We have a lot of new information to lay on them and we need to check Madi and Hoseok’s conditions. Make sure they haven’t started slicin’ and dicin’ everyone yet.” 

Alyssa raised her head to meet his eyes. Although Namjoon looked like he had slept for the first time in weeks she could see the timeless exhaustion and worry that crept into the depths of his eyes. This wasn’t going to be easy but honestly, nothing ever was. 

“Okay,” she said, standing up and pulling Namjoon to his feet beside her. “Let’s go home.” 

* * *

Monica and Jacq had been watching Madi for a few hours now. They were settling in one of the main rooms on two rather uncomfortable loveseats bordering an old couch and pretending to watch some of Jacq’s favorite episodes from her coveted Little House on the Prairie collection (mostly just the episodes where Pa was shirtless and Jacq could recall her eleven year old self experiencing her first female hard on). 

Madi was on the opposite side of the massive room, curled up under a weighted blanket on another couch, her hand draped over her head to block out the light even though the overheads were off and only two floor lamps remained on. They checked in on her every few hours to offer libations but she always said she was fine, just experiencing a particularly nasty migraine. This was a familiar story and one that had become her pattern the past few days. 

About an hour ago, Jungkook had quietly entered the room and plopped onto a floor cushion in front of her. Not close enough to disturb her, but close enough that if anything happened, he’d be the first to react. Jacq was pretty sure Madi hadn’t even noticed. He focused on the television but Jacq knew he wasn’t paying attention since he hadn’t asked any questions about the plot. Jungkook had a tendency to be quite the movie talker, often driving Jimin insane. 

Hoseok wandered in next, also complaining of a headache, and appeared to fall asleep on the couch between Jacq and Monica in a period of about five minutes. Jacq was jealous of his ability to fall asleep so quickly and so soundly. Jacq paused her knitting to drape him in a large blanket and check his temperature before returning to the show. He was burning up. 

The prairie people were experiencing yet another tragedy when a third figure entered the living room doorway. 

Lay. 

Wherever Mad or Hoseoki was, Lay always seemed to show up eventually. He offered a feeble hello to everyone before making his way over to the sleeping Hoseok and plopping by his feet on the couch. Hoseok stirred, but didn’t wake up at the sudden proximity of his creation. Jungkook eyed him warily from his perch by Madi. 

_ Great,  _ Jacq thought, resuming her knitting.  _ Tensions are fucking high today. _

This proceeded for another hour or so before a loud crash echoed from the front entrance of the base. Jungkook was up in an instant, dagger in hand (where the fuck he pulled _ that _ from, Jacq didn’t want to know, the boy was wearing pocketless joggers). Madi sat up on the couch, clutching her head, and Hoseok mirrored her actions. Monica looked like she was ready to die and Lay seemed unsurprised. Everyone reacting as per the new usual. 

The small commotion grew louder and nobody moved as Jin, Jimin, and Taehyung burst into the space followed shortly by a disheveled Namjoon and Alyssa. 

Jungkook dropped the dagger. 

“Well,” Alyssa spoke first, her voice strong. “We’re back, bitches.” 

Madi was the first to move, pushing aside her aching brain to envelop her friend in a hug. Jacq ran across the room to do the same as the boys reunited and then greeted everyone else. It was a moment of sheer happiness in the cloud of darkness that seemed to be following the group. Being reunited was the best thing to happen to this encampment since Taehyung finally found his headphones and stopped blasting B produced porn.

When everything finally settled, Alyssa’s eyes found Lay’s from across the room. Feeling awkward about the affection swap, the android hadn’t moved from his spot on the couch but stared intelligently back at her. The room gradually fell into silence.

“Who the fuck is that?” She asked, eloquent as always. 

Hoseok followed her gaze and let out a huge smile. “Ah, I forgot you left before he was complete. Alyssa, Namjoon- this is Lay.” 

Lay stood and made his way over to the pair. Namjoon subconsciously placed himself between the android and Alyssa, even though both knew she packed a meaner punch in hand to hand combat. It was a reflex, mostly. 

“I’m sorry,” Namjoon spoke up, inspecting Lay’s almost seamless paneling, his eyes tracing the small screws placed periodically around his perfect skin. “Did you say. . . ‘before he was  _ complete’ _ ?”

Hoseok let out a huge grin. “You remember when I was cooped up in my room for those days after Yoongi’s death? I was making Lay.”

“Hello, I am Life After Yoongi, also referred to as LAY,” Lay spoke up. 

“You  _ made  _ him?” Alyssa asked. She had to say, the workmanship was unbelievable, she had no idea that Hoseok had such an interest in robotics. Maybe he could help her fix a certain toy that had stopped working a few months back . . .

“Woa, woa, woa,” Taehyung moved himself to stand next to Hoseok. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves here. Sure, Hoseok may have made the basic model but it was  _ I  _ who brought our dear sheep bleating android friend to life.” He looked at Hoseok and then at Madi. “You’re welcome.” 

“Wait, I’m confused, are you telling me-” Namjoon didn’t get a chance to finish his question because at that moment the earth decided to let out a huge shake, the lights flickering for a few brief moments before flashing off. The group let out a collective gasp, reaching for each other in the dark. 

When the lights resumed, Madi and Hoseok lay unconscious on the ground. 

“Well,” Lay spoke, intelligent eyes piercing Alyssa’s. “It appears it has begun.” 

* * *

The group carried Hoseok and Madi into adjoining rooms in the medical bay, a small area Monica and Jin had begun to renovate to act as a sort of doctor’s office. Both people were unconscious but otherwise stable. Once they were tucked in, Jimin and Jin were sent out on a patrol to ensure that no sasaengs had breached the wards or the base. So far, so good, it seemed. 

The rest of the gang gathered in the small office near the medical bay and tried to make some sense of whatever the fuck was happening to their friends. Alyssa and Namjoon quickly relayed the adventure they had just come from and by the end, everyone had come to the same conclusion.

“So it’s you, right?” Monica asked Lay. The latter had remained his normal ‘creepy quiet’ throughout the entire story, choosing to keep his face blank in the face of so many revelations. Monica wondered how much of this he already knew. “You’re the man not borne from woman that the prophecy thing speaks about.” 

“I am, in fact, a man not borne from woman.”

“Yeah, I mean, Hoseok and I bore you or whatever so it only makes sense,” Taehyung announced before shrinking back.

“You are aware of how that sounds?” Jacq whispered to Taehyung.

“I realized too little, too late.”

Jacq patted him on the back, their magic bond as mysterious and strong as ever.

“Lay, you we’re a little too quiet during the whole retelling. Is there something you know that you’re not sharing?” With Alyssa’s friends' lives at stake, she wasn’t playing around. Especially not with a creepy android who was too sexy for his own good. 

“I did not know for certain that I could save Master and the beautiful woman,” Jungkook bristled next to Monica and she placed a gentle hand on his arm. Lay continued. “But, I was beginning to suspect. I’ve been having . . . urges.” 

Namjoon’s eyebrow quirked, a sly smile on his lips. “What kind of  _ urges? _ ” 

For the first time in, well,  _ ever _ , Lay seemed uneasy. His creepy non emotive mask dropped and Jacq was fairly certain that he looked  _ nervous. _

“I don’t know how to explain. Master-” 

“Oh, God,” Alyssa groaned. “Please stop referring to Hoseok as ‘Master’”

Lay tilted his head. “I do not understand? He is my master. It’s how he programmed me.”

“Well,” Jacq responded. “We don’t have time to unpack  _ all _ of that.” 

“Let him continue.” Surprisingly, it was Jungkook who spoke up from where he sat next to Monica. “I want to hear what he has to say.”

Taehyung and Jacq exchanged a raised eyebrow glance. Jungkook wanted to hear Lay  _ out? _

“Thank you, beefy boy,” Lay nodded in Jungkook’s direction. The latter shrugged. “As I was saying, Master-” Namjoon elbowed Alyssa who let out yet another snicker. Taehyung gave her a fist pump. Jacq silently hoped he had washed his hands today. “- programmed me to only want to serve you all. Help out with domestic tasks, aid Jacq and Taehyung in learning about their powers, store information - those sort of things.”

“But, recently, I’ve been having other feelings. Split feelings. On one hand, I have been battling malevolent thoughts about each of you, ones that seemed to be plopped into my mind fully formed, not pieced together like the rest of my thoughts.”

“Concerning. . . “ Jacq remarked.  _ But not surprising. . .  _

Lay nodded. “I know. They freak me out too. That’s one example. On the opposite side of the spectrum I’ve been having these feelings towards Madi and - God, how do I put this? And towards Hoseok. Feelings of . . . . uhh . . . lust? I’m not certain if that is the right word, I was not programmed to have sexual urges.”

“Horny,” Alyssa said. “What you’re describing is that you are feeling  _ horny _ .”

“A feeling I know too well,” Taehyung quipped. 

Lay looked at Jungkook. “I am sorry, Jungkook. I know that you and Madi have feelings for one anothe-”

“Woa, woa, woa.” Jungkook sat back in his seat, hands up in surrender. “Let’s not over exaggerate things here. I don’t have  _ feelings-” _

“You’ve been following her around like a puppy to its owner for weeks,” Monica interrupted. “Not to mention she looks at you like a pedophile looks at children. No need to deny it.”

Jungkook’s face flushed red.

“Your feelings were no secret to me and early on, I had no interest in pursuing the girl. But as more time passed from her bite the thoughts in my brain got scattered and I began to want to bed her. Badly. Well, her  _ and _ Hoseok.”

“You want to sleep with your Master?” Alyssa said, straightfaced. Where she got the self control, Jacq didn’t know. It didn’t slip by unnoticed by Namjoon either, who gave her a high five and whispered “Good job at practicing restraint” into her ear. She beamed at him, proudly. 

“Yes,” Lay replied. “Gender does not matter to me when looking for a partner. My only surprise was that I had the feelings at all.”

“Okay, well that makes sense,” Namjoon said. “We know that the prophecy states that his-” he motioned to Lay “-seed or whatever is what is supposed to cure them. That explains why he has a robotic hard on for Hoseok and Madi.” 

“But what about the other thoughts?” Taehyung brought up. “The one’s about murdering us all? I don’t know about you guys but  _ those _ are the ones that worry me.” 

The group was silent for a moment. 

“There’s no chance you could have been bitten, right?” Alyssa asked. 

Lay considered this for a moment. “No, I haven’t been in direct contact with any sasaengs. Hoseok and Madi are the closests and they are merely vessels of the disease.” 

“Madi didn’t give you the good  _ nippy nip?”  _ Monica asked. Jungkook paled slightly beside her. 

“No,” Lay deadpanned. “Madi did not bite me when we exchanged saliva.” 

“ _ Okaay,”  _ Jungkook said. “Madi and you kissed. We  _ get it _ .” 

“Maybe the sasaengs could be controlling him without the bite because he’s not human? Something to do with his wiring?” Namjoon asked.

“No, that doesn’t make any sense. They’ve never had a technological advantage before,” Alyssa answered. “Unless they’re evolving or some shit?” 

“Maybe it has to do with his body chemistry more so than his brain? Like, the bite may introduce electromagnetic waves to the bloodstream that allow the sasaeng frequencies to get through and Lay has some of that makeup naturally?” Jacq offered.

Namjoon pointed at her. “That could make sense. If the bite is putting a bit of sasaeng into the victims, then maybe the sasaengs have a similar body chemistry to Lay- Do you two think you could figure that out?” 

Jacq and Taehyung looked at each other. “I think so,” Jacq answered. “We could definitely do some research and see if we can figure out why he would be having those thoughts-”

“That’s all fine and dandy,” Jungkook interrupted. “But we’re focusing on saving an android that honestly, no one would miss if he was gone-” Jungkook motioned to Lay “- no offense, when two of our friends are actually  _ dying _ in the medical bay right now. So, is Lay gonna fuck them or not? What exactly do we need to  _ do _ with his seed to cure them?” 

“Well,” Alyssa wringed out her hands. “We actually don’t know. Honestly, Deidre was so convinced about the fact that the prophecy was impossible that I doubt she has any additional information, either.” 

“That’s fan-fucking-tastic,” Jungkook answered. “What do we have him do? Jerk off into a can and try having them drink it first or some shit?”

Namjoon looked at Alyssa. “That’s actually not a bad idea. If that doesn’t work we could have him sleep with them?” 

“This is fucking wild,” Monica said. 

Jacq rubbed the bridge of her nose. “What if they don’t want to sleep with him? What if the illness prevents them from seeing it as good and just makes them panic? Are we gonna force the fucking android on them?” 

The group fell quiet again. 

“I guess,” Alyssa responded. “We start with the jizz in a cup and then examine our options from there. Although, I will say, that Madi’s initial attraction to Lay seems to be amplified by the illness and I don’t think she would have any problems getting into bed with him.”

“If it helps,” Lay spoke up. “I think I can overpower the thoughts in their brains long enough to let them know that it will help. I’ve been practicing with frequencies to calm down certain. . . uh . . .problematic members of the group and have had mild success so far.”

“What does that even mean?” Jacq asked. 

“Well, you know how Jin can get about his skin products. . . “ 

A simultaneous amount of ‘Ahhs’ filtered around the room. 

“Dude, that is incredibly unsettling,” Jungkook said. 

Lay shrugged. 

“I have a question,” Taehyung said leaning towards Lay. “When you cum, what is it exactly? What color?”

Jacq glared at him. “Tae, we talked about this. What the fuck is wrong with you?” 

“I’m just curious,  _ God _ , it’s not like I’m asking him to fucking whip out his dick and fucking jerk off right-” 

Jimin burst into the room, hair awry, breathing heavy and the group stared at him in shock. “Guys, come with me. We have an emergency.” 

***

The emergency, it turned out, was Madi. She had awoken from her slumber while the group was debating what to do r and discovered that she was locked in the little medical room. Hoseok, it appeared, still slept soundly, ever the easy patient. She was currently beating on the walls and screaming to be let out. Her wound was visible through her shirt and it was looking nastier than ever. She somehow had managed to get a small blunt object of some kind (probably broken off by the shattered medical cart in the corner) and was now using it to slam against the one sided glass on one wall of the room. The others looked in from the other side. 

“Why is she always the difficult one?” Alyssa remarked. 

“It’s okay,” Jin said. “The glass is shatter proof and one sided. She can’t see us and she can’t break the glass. My only worry is that she is going to further hurt herself in desperation.”

“Deidre did say they didn’t cope well with being cooped up,” Namjoon responded. 

“You can’t cause turmoil alone in a box,” Alyssa said. “What’s the plan then, how do we get her to calm down?” 

Madi continued to pound on the glass. Nobody offered up any solutions. 

“I can do it,” Lay stepped forward. “Put my mind games to the test, see if they work.”

The group looked at him in shock. 

“Are you sure?” Taehyung asked. “She looks pretty upset.”

“That’s putting it mildly,” Jimin responded. 

Lay nodded, making his way to the door. “Like Jungkook said before, I’m disposable, really. That and I have experience with managing Jin’s freakouts, who’s to say I can’t do the same to Madi?”

“Wait,” Jin turned his head towards Lay. “You do  _ what  _ with my freakouts?” 

Lay ignored his comment and turned towards Namjoon. “Close the door behind me, would you?”

And with that he grabbed the handle to the medical bay, and turned it. 

  
  



End file.
